Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight
by wargear
Summary: Just what made Dumbledore so confident that Harry would be safe with the Dursleys? Chapter 10 the letters arrive.
1. Chapter 1

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless all these people http/ for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter One.**

* * *

Harry was languishing, wallowing even, in his own private hell.

Number 4 Privet Drive.

His Dogfather…Godfather (bloody Malfoy) had died only a couple of weeks ago. He had had the fate of the world, not just the wizarding world, but the entire world, dumped on his skinny shoulders by the oh-so-great-and-wonderful Albus Dumbledore. Who had then promptly sent him off to hide once again.

Here.

In hell.

Durzkaban.

Harry was currently preparing to serve dinner.

_You'd think with so much riding on me, that he'd at least have someone training me through Summer, wouldn't you._ _Next Summer, I'm bringing Dobby home with me, and stuff what Dumbledore thinks. I'm fed up with being a slave. Merlin, I hate these people._

A flash of light caught his eye as he stood at the kitchen sink. _A Reducto curse…_"BLOODY HELL!" Harry leapt for cover as the explosive spell slammed through the kitchen wall, sending wood and brick shrapnel in all directions.

His family, who had just sat down for dinner, were knocked to the floor by the force of the explosion.

Harry pulled out his wand and slipped into the laundry, hoping to buy a little time for the Order or the Ministry to get there. Not that he had much faith in either at this point. He watched through the crack in the door as a half dozen Death Eaters entered the kitchen through the hole in the wall.

"We've got you now Potter!" he looked around "Potter? Damn, I could have sworn he was here a second ago." The lead Death Eater sounded disappointed.

"Oh, look. Muggles." A second one piped up with.

"I guess with no Potter here, we'll have to torture them. I mean, if we returned to the Dark Lord and said 'Sorry we couldn't find Potter so we just left', you saw what he did to Lestrange for failing him in the Ministry." Death Eater number three pointed his wand towards Vernon, " You filthy muggles aren't fit to breathe the same air as us, so I'm quite afraid you're going to have to suffer, _Crucio_."

Vernon, who had been changing colours, as first horror, then anger, then full blown rage, then fear had wandered through his consciousness, suddenly found himself having a joyful cruciatus experience, which is kind of like a joyful cappuccino experience except for it being painful and not having any caffeinated goodness…well…I guess it really is nothing like it after all.

Death Eater number four was a little bored. As he had graduated just last month, he had yet to learn how to cast the _Cruciatus_ curse, and had been told to just stand back and watch, to keep a lookout for the inevitable arrival of Aurors. He stepped outside again, figuring he could _Incendio_ some of the prize winning Roses in the backyard before setting the house on fire.

Death Eater number one, had meanwhile cornered Petunia Dursley, behind whom was a sadly stranded whale…oh, wait…it was a human? "What in Merlin's name are you hiding behind your back, woman? A baby elephant? Aren't they supposed to be kept in the zoo? Anyway, _Crucio_."

Petunia fell down, writhing in agony…

…briefly.

* * *

Harry watched in horror as his family was tortured, it was kinda one of those train wreck moments, don't want to look, but can't look away. Gathering up his courage, and paying only vague attention to the little voice that sounded like Hermione telling him to hide, Harry waited until one of the Death Eaters (number six, in fact) was nearby but facing away, poked his wand out the door a little and fired a whispered _Petrificus Totalus_ into the middle of his back.

* * *

As Death Eater number two was stepping past the fallen Petunia, she stopped writhing, and leapt suddenly to her feet. She reached out, grabbing his head and twisting it with a sickening Crack. Catching his body, she grabbed his wand and used his corpse as a body shield. Noticing the wand poking out of the Laundry door, she opened up on the Death Eaters with a series of stunners and powerful immobilising hexes, joined moments later by Harry who opened the door a little, but didn't abandon his cover, preferring to at least partially listen to his inner Hermione.

Within about a minute, all the Death Eaters were disarmed, bound, and secured to conjured chairs in what was left of the kitchen. As were Vernon and Dudley.

Harry was very confused. "Aunt Petunia, what…?"

Petunia didn't turn away from the death eaters. "Not now Harry" Her voice was deeper than it had been an hour ago but also much colder as she turned from looking over her prisoners to regard Harry. A sudden warmth entered her gaze as she regarded him, as if for the first time. "Go and get your things, shrink your trunk and wait by the front door. Hurry" Her gaze turned frosty as she turned back to her victims.

Harry scampered off, leaving her alone with the prisoners.

* * *

As soon as the kitchen door swung shut behind him, she cast _Silencio_, and began _Enervating_ all seven surviving men.

"Well, isn't this nice." She looked each of them in the eye for a moment. "This is for threatening my nephew's life, _Crucio_, _Crucio_, _Crucio_, _Crucio_,_ Crucio_,_ Crucio_,_ Crucio_. Oops." She smirked. "Got carried away a bit there, sorry Duddykins."

Death Eater number five, who had done very little so far, managed to find his voice first. "B-Buh-but you're a muggle!"

Petunia looked at him, "_Crucio_. Did anyone ask you? No. Anyway, I think I've had enough fun here tonight, so I'll be saying bye, and blasting your entrails across the kitchen. It's nothing personal, just aversion therapy for your friends when they hear about it."

The Death Eaters looked at her in horror, they hadn't ever actually expected to risk death themselves.

She muttered something foul, and a sickly yellow light enveloped each of the Death Eaters in turn, causing them to start writhing in growing abdominal discomfort. She turned away from them to consider Vernon and Dudley.

"Petunia, what is the meaning of this? How can you be one of them?" Vernon's confusion had temporarily overwhelmed his anger.

Petunia reached out and patted his cheek tenderly for a moment. "_Crucio_. You great, fat, disgusting Muggle. How could you treat a child like that? How dare you? And to force your wife to do the same? Bastard! _Crucio_! This is for Tobias Fairchild, you soulless monster. _Avada Kedavra_."

Vernon looked at the woman he had spent the last eighteen years with in shock. He had thought he had gotten away with it. He had beaten, broken, raped, and then run the boy over with a car…repeatedly…before dumping him in an alley in London. But that had been twenty years ago. The last thought to travel the pitifully short neural pathways of his brain was; _But what have they done with my Petunia?_

She turned finally to the great blubbering heap that she had given birth to, and shuddered in revulsion. Clenching her jaw, she looked Dudley in the eye. "I'm sorry Dudley, but I'm not your mother. She was make-believe, a fantasy, a sick nightmare. I guess you're as much the victim here as Harry." She shook her head. "I'm sorry." She whispered, waving the wand. "_Castratus_. _Obliviate_."

She looked around at the swiftly bloating bodies of the still living, but not for long, Death Eaters, and hurried through the door to find Harry. Moments after the door swung shut, the Death Eaters abdomens exploded, spraying intestines, blood, and chunks of internal organs all over the walls and out across the back yard.

* * *

"_Silencio_."

Harry heard his Aunt cast the silencing spell behind him in the kitchen, and decided he didn't really want to think about it. He hurried up to Dudley's second bedroom, his room, and pulled out his trunk.

Deciding speed was more important than finesse, he attempted the packing spell Ginny had shown him earlier in the year. His clothes and books hurtled across the room and lodged themselves in the trunk. He carefully opened his secret space under the floorboard, gathering his Invisibility Cloak, the photo album, and the Marauder's Map. His broom was still back at Hogwarts thanks to the toad-lady. He opened Hedwig's cage, letting her out the window. "You need to get out of here. Go to Hermione, she will be able to look after you. Find me in a week, I should be safe by then." Hedwig nipped his finger and flew out into the night.

He quickly cast a shrinking charm on the chest, tucking the matchbox-sized trunk into his pocket, and hurrying downstairs.

Petunia was just stepping out of the kitchen, smiling up at him as he quickly ran down the stairs. She strode purposefully up the hall towards him. "Have you got everything?" She collected her own handbag from the hall table. "Merlin's Codpiece, that's an awful colour" she stuck her tongue out in disgust.

Harry watched her carefully, he had realised what was 'off' about his Aunt…she was smiling at him, in a friendly way, not mean like she usually did. He nodded at her question and patted the pocket of his jeans. "Shrunken."

She nodded, and took his hand, leading him towards the front door. As she opened it, an owl hooted from the top of the car where it was standing. A letter bearing the seal of the ministry tied to it's leg.

"Shit, underage bloody bollocking magic." She snarled.

Harry slapped himself on the forehead. _How could I have forgotten? All this excitement with the Death Eaters, I suppose._ He looked at his Aunt, "What do I do? Fudge will be sure to snap my wand this time."

Petunia looked at the disheartened face of her nephew. "That good-for-nothing Nargle-herder had better keep his bloody distance. Don't you worry." She turned to the rather impatient looking owl, and with a wave of the Death Eater's wand, banished it.

Harry gasped in shock.

"Give me your wand." She took it out of his hand, plucked a hair from his head, and waved the stolen wand over both. Moments later, she handed Harry his wand back, and picked up an exact duplicate transfigured from his hair. She grinned at him, and snapped it in half, dropping it at her feet. "Now make sure you don't go using your wand until I can arrange to get those bloody tracking spells removed from it, okay?"

Harry grinned back, liking his Aunt's new attitude.

"Now, get in." She paused, a thought coming to her. "Do you have James' cloak? Your father?"

"Yes," He muttered.

"Belt up and then throw it over yourself, the less people that see you leaving, the better."

He did as he was told, and Petunia reversed out of the driveway, almost running over one of Mrs Fig's cats, and drove quickly out of Little Whinging, not saying a word while having to concentrate on her driving.

* * *

A silent hour's drive away, Petunia pulled up outside a post office, and went to the post-boxes. Taking a key out of her garish purple purse, she unlocked a box.

The odd thing from Harry's point of view, was that she appeared to be reaching into a space between two concurrent mail boxes. Which, to quote Hermione, is impossible. He watched as she tossed a handful of brochures and advertisements onto the ground, and retrieved an object about the size of a packet of cigarettes, before returning to the car.

"What was that?"

She nodded towards the Post Office, "Fidelius charm on a post office box. I have a few around with stashes of money and equipment. For times like now." She grinned at the empty space where Harry's voice had come from.

"Wha…?"

"What now? Easy. We find somewhere to dump the car, and we disappear. A hotel, a shower, a change of clothes, and a decent meal that someone else has to cook for us. Sounds good?" Petunia sounded hopeful, while she got the car underway again.

Harry nodded, realised she couldn't see him, and said. "Sounds great."

* * *

They had dumped the car beside the highway leading into London, and after setting it on fire, Petunia took a portkey from her stash, and they travelled into the centre of London, where they caught a taxi to the hotel.

The hotel turned out to be one of the most expensive and upmarket palaces Harry had ever seen. His Aunt had him stay under the cloak, while she cast some kind of glamour over herself.

They checked in under the name Evans. Harry was surprised, but not much when he thought about it. A couple of minutes later they were in a room twice the size of the Gryffindor common room. He took the cloak off as soon as they were alone.

"Wow."

"It's not bad." She sounded blasé. "You get the first bath, while I remove my makeup." When he didn't move, she made shooing gestures. "Go on."

Harry walked into a room reminiscent of the bathing houses of ancient Rome. It was huge. He ran a bath, and quickly stripped off, sinking slowly into the first real bath he'd had since Hogwarts.

* * *

He was just starting to doze a little when, much to his discomfort, his Aunt entered the room.

"Hey. I'm…" Harry didn't quite know what to say at this point. The last time his Aunt had been in the bathroom at the same time as him, he'd been four years old.

"Don't worry, Harry, I'm not going to peek. I just need the mirror to remove my makeup." She paused to look at herself in the mirror. "Merlin, what was I thinking." She looked past herself to the reflection of Harry in the mirror. "So, tell me about your time at Hogwarts, and don't leave anything out. I want to hear everything." She smiled at him in the mirror.

Harry was in shock. Despite everything he had experienced today, he had never, not even in his wildest fantasies, ever imagined that one day his Aunt would, voluntarily, show an interest in his time at Hogwarts. He stammered for a moment, unsure of where to start.

She smiled kindly, "Start from when Hagrid swooped in and rescued you."

Harry swallowed, and began relating the tale of his adventures at Hogwarts.

All the while his Aunt made comments, laughed at the right times, cried at his misfortunes, cheered him when he started getting depressed, and generally helped him through.

She was also changing before his eyes. The transformation was slow, but very obvious.

By the time he had finished relating the events of his first year, her neck was shorter, her face a little rounder, and her hair was beginning to change to a more reddish hue.

At about the time he was describing the fight with the Basilisk, she was watching him with tear-filled green eyes…bright, shining green eyes…just like his own.

While trying to find the right words to properly tell her how they freed Sirius Black, he noticed that her body had begun to fill out, and her nose had become more…petite.

As he related his triumph and his horror at the conclusion of the Tri-Wizard tournament, the face smiling supportively, and sharing his horror, was eerily familiar.

And finally, the events of the year just completed.

He had watched as his Aunt Petunia, cast a series of counter-charms, hexes, and transfigurations. Had watched as the woman who bore no resemblance to his mother disappeared, and was replaced by another woman. A woman with a smiling face, long crimson hair, and the same glowing green eyes that looked back at him from the mirror each morning. This woman was his mother's sister.

She smiled at him. "I think it's time for introductions, Harry. I'm sorry I was never there for you, I'm your mother's sister, Holly Evans."

Harry blinked in surprise, before responding. "Um…nice to meet you?"

She laughed, a beautiful crystal clear laugh. "Don't worry, you'll get used to me. Petunia was a disguise. Unfortunately, a very good disguise that I had no choice in. Time for my story, I guess." She sighed, then looked at him. "After dinner. You've soaked long enough to look like a prune. There's a bathrobe on the hook there, don't worry about clothes yet. I'll order dinner, while you dress, then I'll have a quick wash, and then I'll tell you my story." She got up and left Harry.

Harry shook his head to collect himself, got out of the bath, dried and dressed in the very large (on him) white bathrobe.

His Aunt Holly booted him out of the bathroom a few moments later. Rejoining him after ten minutes when a knock at the door announced the arrival of food.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stood in the kitchen doorway at number 4 Privet Drive stunned. The rank stench of dark magic thick to the point of causing him nausea, senses honed over a hundred and fifty years telling him more in that instant than the ministry's Aurors had found in the last half hour.

"Headmaster, thanks for the tip-off. Death Eaters definitely attacked here, but other than that…we have no idea what happened." Kingsley Shacklebolt was shaking his head, gesturing expansively at the gore-splattered kitchen. "Nor have we found Mundungus yet, either."

A thin, ascetic man approached the kitchen door from behind the aged headmaster. "There is no sign of the Potter Boy, though we did find this." The man wearing the robes of an Unspeakable held out the broken remains of a wand. "It bears the remnant traces of a number of immobility and stunning hexes, as was reported by the Ministry's monitors."

Albus took the broken pieces of Harry's wand from the Unspeakable. The tingle of magic, Harry's aura, was unmistakable. "Yes, it is Mr. Potter's wand." He handed it back to the Unspeakable, turning worried eyes towards Kingsley. "I'll leave this in your capable hands, gentlemen. If I can help in any way, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Chief Warlock, we will call if any anomalies surface." The cool smooth voice of the Unspeakable was reassuring. "Perhaps you could ask Alastor Moody if he could spare us some of his time. This, I think, is something that has not been seen since his time."

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded, and vanished with a pop.

The Unspeakable stepped into the doorway previously occupied by the headmaster, and slowly surveyed the carnage. "What are the preliminary findings, Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley looked grim. "Looks like we had Potter and his muggle family sitting down to dinner, when these six," He indicated the six rather exploded corpses, "Death Eaters attacked. Looks like an explosion curse to the kitchen window and wall. After that we're speculating wildly." He shrugged.

The Unspeakable raised a single eyebrow. "Speculating?"

"Well, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts," He waved in the general direction of a very worried Arthur Weasley, "thinks that Potter fought the Death Eaters into submission, but was surprised by a third party who killed them and kidnapped Potter." He pointed across at the two forensic Aurors. "Investigations thinks Potter ambushed the Death Eaters from the laundry over there, but had assistance from someone. Probably an Auror or Hit Wizard from the skill level. We," He indicated a handful of Aurors, including himself and Tonks, who was currently searching the room for magical items, "Think Potter escaped and fled elsewhere with his Aunt, one Petunia Dursley."

The Unspeakable had not paused during this report, but had continued scanning the room. His gaze was currently fixed on the remains of the table, upon which were a collection of wands, portkeys and miscellaneous minor enchanted items. "Only five wands? Are there not six Death Eaters?"

Kingsley glanced at the bench, then looked over at the pink-haired Auror. "Tonks. Found the sixth wand yet?"

Nymphadora Tonks glared at her boss. "Nope." She sighed in frustration. "It's not here. Nothing. Nada. We can't find broken neck-guy's wand, the others are accounted for. It wont even respond to an _Accio_ and we have no point of reference for a point me spell."

The Unspeakable spoke quietly, "It would appear that Mr. Potter has replaced his broken wand. We shall have to meet with Mr. Olivander to determine what sort it was."

Shacklebolt nodded grimly. "Then there's the two muggles. The father is dead, the killing curse. The other, the son, was castrated and obliviated. Both had been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus."

The Unspeakable frowned. "There is a picture here, but we are missing several pieces of the puzzle. The muggle transport device is missing. There are no signs that the fight left this area, which would imply that the entire family was present, but no sign of any blood trail out of the house, however Mr. Potter's wand was found outside, away from the fight. Then we have the disturbing problem that there are a total of seven wand signatures registered as used here. If Mr Potter was rescued, where is the Eighth? Not to mention, where would a thaumophobic relative take him? No, there is something very odd here."

* * *

Authors Note:

This one should update relatively quickly. I actually bothered to plan out where this story is going. Big change for me. But don't hold me to that. If the new job comes up in the next few days, it could be a while for the next update.


	2. Chapter 2

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless http/ for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter Two.**

* * *

"I don't think we have time for the full expository scene, Harry, so I'll give you the short version of my life."

Harry was finishing off his second bowl of chocolate mousse, while still wary of the woman who had suddenly turned his life upside down, he wasn't about to turn down desert. Especially since she gave him hers as well.

Holly smiled gently as she saw the obvious pleasure such a simple luxury brought him, and then hardened slightly when she remembered why that was the case. "I was born in 1950 to muggle parents. I received my Hogwarts letter the same year that my sister, your mother, was born. My time there was quite a bit less interesting than yours though, like you, I was particularly talented in Defence Against the Dark Arts. After graduation, I was quickly snapped up by Alastor Moody for the Auror Corps." She paused to take a swig of Fire Whiskey from the bottle she had taken from her trunk, sighing as the steam puffed from her ears.

Harry nodded, thinking about his own options for the coming years. "I think he might have his eye on me as well." His face composed, thoughtful.

She nodded, "It wouldn't surprise me, he always had an eye for talent…" She paused, and laughed. "His eye on you, good one Harry." Laughing harder at his cheeky grin. "Anyway, I completed Auror training, though not without a few problems. Apparently I had an attitude problem. If not for Moody's direct involvement, I'd have washed out."

Harry sipped his tea, enthralled.

"After about my thirtieth run-in with my bosses, Moody had me transferred over to the Hit-Wizards."

Harry gasped, "You were a Hit-Wizard?"

"Hit-Witch, technically. Though it only matters if you have a twelve inch length of birch stuck up your…" She paused, grinning briefly. "And I still am a Hit-Witch." Her eyes locked with Harry's. "Not to put too fine a point on it though, Harry, but Hit-Wizards are assassins. Highly trained killers. Not policemen like the Aurors are. More like… like James Bond, we even get a license to kill." She really had to think to find a comparison.

Harry stared back at her in shock, swallowed a couple of times. "How did you end up as Petunia?"

She took a deep, calming breath. "I'll get to that in a minute." She paused. "I had been a Hit-Witch for a while when my parent's were killed. Lily was still at Hogwarts. I needed money to pay her tuition, and I needed a lot of it. Hogwarts doesn't teach for free, Harry, it's actually very expensive. For Arthur and Molly to actually put all their children through Hogwarts is no minor feat."

Harry nodded slowly, suddenly seeing his friend's family in a new light.

"As I said, I needed the money and fast. Someone Moody knew arranged a private meeting, and before I knew it…I was moonlighting. I was an assassin for hire." She looked down, considered the bottle on the table, and then looked back at Harry. "I'm not saying I'd work for anyone, I only took hits against suspected darksiders or muggles who deserved it. As a licensed Hit-Witch I could get away with killing a few extra people, and families would pay me to deal with scum who had hurt their loved ones. I'm ashamed to say, I began to enjoy the hunt. There's a quote by a famous muggle, Ernest Hemingway, '_There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter_.' It's true, sadly enough." She shook her head sadly. "Which brings us to Vernon. Or rather, Tobias Fairchild."

Harry just sat there, his face a mask of confusion.

"Tobias was 12 years old and a muggleborn. He lived in number 6 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Never heard of him? Hardly surprising. A certain Vernon Dursley discovered the boy doing a little accidental magic in the back yard one day and decided to punish the boy for his strangeness." She shuddered at the memory. "When the family discovered the corpse, they needed dental records to identify him. The family was terrified and fled the area. It didn't help though; Vernon sent threats after them, hired investigators to keep track of them. Eventually a friend of the family hired me to… deal with Vernon. I adopted the 'Petunia' persona in order to get close to him, but something happened. Some kind of accident, a car crash I think. Which wound up with me in hospital with amnesia. I had studied Vernon extensively beforehand, and some of that knowledge remained with me. After leaving the hospital I sought out Vernon, eventually marrying him." She looked a little green at the thought. "He could be charming enough when he wanted to. This was twenty years ago."

Harry wasn't sure what to think, so sat watching her.

"About fifteen years ago, I received a visitor. He was an old man with a huge white beard and long white hair. He wore an old fashioned suit. I didn't know him at the time, but it was Albus Dumbledore. He was looking for the sister of one of his students who had just died, Lily. I'm guessing, but I'd say he probably performed some sort of tracking spell to locate a blood kin of Lily's and found me. I could suddenly remember being Lily's sister, the resentment, the jealousy, all of it." Her knuckles were white where she was holding onto the edge of the table, her eyes glazing over in memory.

"That sounds like the Dumble's I know. You're an Occlumens, yes? And powerful right?" Harry asked, his green eyes glowing faintly though no expression showed on his face.

She nodded to both.

"Then it would have taken someone of Dumbledore's power to plant a memory charm that thorough into your mind, amnesia or no amnesia." Harry was scowling now. "That doesn't sound right then, I read about memory charms for an assignment for Charms. What you just said sounds like he gave you a memory charm to change your memory to remember those things. I mean, if you had no memory of it before, why would you suddenly get one? " Harry blinked and looked shocked. "But that would mean he deliberately made you resent her and me! The bastard! How could he?"

The lights in the room began flickering, and an ominous tone began to vibrate forth from the glassware around the room. Holly's eyes were glowing with suppressed anger. Holly focussed on Harry, and suddenly calmed herself. "Sorry Harry, I think you might be right there. Doesn't matter right now, we'll sort out certain things with him later." She put on a smile for him. "Anyway, that Death Eater putting me under the Cruciatus broke through my memory blocks, and I was able to remember who I am." She drifted off in thought for a few moments. "Well, off to bed, we have a lot to do tomorrow, decisions we have to make." She shooed him towards one of the bedrooms, following behind him.

Harry climbed into bed, placed his glasses by the bedside, and was about to turn the light out when Holly came over to him, kissed him on the cheek and wished him a good night's sleep.

He drifted off to sleep, happier than he had been in longer than he could remember.

* * *

Mid-morning saw both Aunt and Nephew taking a late breakfast.

"I know it's hard to hear that your Aunt was really some kind of murderer…" Holly started.

"No." Harry interrupted her. "I understand. I really think I do understand."

She stared at him with wide glistening eyes.

"You enjoy combat, and chose to fight on the side of light rather than join Voldemort." He was pleased when he saw she didn't flinch. "In order to help your family, mum, you took some less than legal jobs." He reached across the table to cover her hand with his own, squeezing it gently, savouring the touch. "You loved her, didn't you?"

She nodded, tears running down her cheeks, before getting up and hugging him. "Thank you Harry…" She tried to say more, but couldn't. Overcome by emotion.

They stayed that way for a while, each unwilling to give up the loving human contact. Only eventually separating and returning to their abandoned breakfast when Harry's stomach grumbled loudly, causing both to laugh.

* * *

After breakfast, they sat down together to discuss options.

"We need somewhere to stay over the rest of the Summer until you return to Hogwarts. Somewhere safe. Somewhere safe…" She drifted off.

Harry shrugged. "Where did you used to live?"

Holly shook her head, "That's the first place they'll look once they realise I'm back. I'd prefer to not be that easy to find, my record would still be in the Ministry."

"What about mum and dad's place?" Harry asked hopefully.

She raised an eyebrow. "The Godric's Hollow place you mentioned? We could check with the goblins if it is still there." She sighed. "I guess there's no avoiding a trip to Diagon Alley." She looked him over. "And you could do with some new clothes too."

His eyebrows shot up. "I've never had new clothes before."

They both blushed in shame of that statement.

"I know Harry, I know." She said quietly. "But you'll need them, particularly if I'm going to be training you."

"Training me? You'd do that?"

She snorted. "As if I'd let Lily's one and only son go off to fight a Dark Lord without the proper training."

Harry thought for a moment. "What about my friends? They'll be with me during any battle with Voldemort, even if I don't want them to be. I couldn't keep them away."

Holly looked thoughtful. "No promises, this training isn't for everyone. But I'll test them, and I agree to train them if they impress me."

He had started to sag a little at that, but by the end of her statement was looking satisfied with her answer.

"Here, put this on," She handed him some dark blue robes from her trunk. "And make sure to keep the hood up while we're there. Don't want this ending before it starts."

Harry just grinned, taking the robes and beating a hasty retreat to his room to change.

* * *

The portkey brought them to the arrival point just inside Diagon Alley. From where they made swift progress to Gringotts, slipping through the mid-morning crowds as though they were alone. Noone gave the cloaked and cowled figures a second glance.

Holly led Harry into Gringotts, pausing only when he touched her arm.

"Let me."

She nodded, letting him lead her over to where a goblin was standing off to one side.

"Good morning, Griphook. Would it be possible for me to speak to a solicitor about my parent's Estate?" Harry had pulled back his cowl enough for the Goblin to see his face.

"And to you, Mr. Potter. I take it you're here incognito once again." The Goblin's face was stern, but his voice was kept low and his eyes appeared to gleam with good humour. "I can certainly arrange for that. Now, would you care to adjourn to a private room, I'll have tea brought." Griphook led them down a side hall to a small room with a low table and several comfortable chairs around it, before securing the door behind them

Holly looked at Harry, confused. "What was that? I've never seen a goblin be anything but surly, and you completely bypassed the entire waiting in line bit" She shook her head in wonder.

Harry laughed at her confusion. "That was Griphook, I met him the very first time I came here." He scratched his head, "I don't know, I get this kind of service every time I come in here."

A noise at the door drew their attention. Harry stood up, Holly following his lead a couple of feet behind him. Griphook had returned, and was holding the door open for a very richly dressed Goblin with gold caps on his teeth.

"Mr Potter, this is Goldmaw, a Senior Solicitor." Griphook was deferential to the new Goblin.

"A pleasure to meet you Goldmaw, I am Harry Potter and this is my aunt, Holly Evans." Harry nodded to the new Goblin and led his aunt over to the table. "I don't want to take up too much of your valuable time, Goldmaw."

"Not at all Mr Potter, I have a number of issues to deal with while you are here." The Goblin placed his files on the table in front of him and took a seat. "Your arrival is quite timely."

Harry helped his aunt to a seat, and then sat himself, turning his full attention to the Goblin.

Another Goblin entered carrying a tray with a tea set, placing it on the table. He began pouring, serving first Goldmaw, then Harry and then looking to Holly for her instructions.

"Black, no sugar thanks." She had been surprised when Harry had not been asked, realising that the Goblin evidently knew how Harry liked his tea already. She noted the faint nod of approval from Harry when she thanked the Goblin.

Harry took a sip of his tea, and then placed it to the side, his attention firmly on Goldmaw.

Goldmaw took another sip, his approval of the Potter heir well hidden. He appeared to understand that business was important, but that the mores of civilization must be observed. "I have examined the Potter and Evans Estates, and found a number of irregularities. It would appear that your parent's Wills were disregarded in both spirit and letter. Upon their death, you Mr Potter should have been placed into the custody of your Godfather, Lord Black. We have it on good authority that you were placed, at the behest of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, with your Muggle aunt." The goblin scowled and re-read the parchment. "Though your mother is listed as only having one sister, a Petunia, not another named Holly."

Harry frowned, Sirius and Remus both had told him that his Godfather should have raised him, but hearing it from the Goblins added so much weight to the issue.

"I am afraid though, Mr Potter, that without the permission of your magical guardian I cannot complete the instructions in your parent's wills. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was designated your magical guardian by the Wizengamot. He denied you your birthright when you first returned to the magical world at age eleven, forbidding us from informing you. Again only a couple of weeks ago, he denied us permission to contact you regarding your Godfather's will."

Harry's eyes were beginning to glow with anger at Dumbledore, his aura beginning to manifest visibly, a phantom breeze blowing at his hair and robes but affecting nothing else in the room.

Holly squeezed her nephew's arm. "Actually, as Harry's guardian, I believe I can grant the appropriate permission. Dumbledore left Harry in my custody, and as I am a Witch, that makes me his magical guardian. I can take Veritaserum if that is required."

Harry's surprise at her words completely knocked him out of his temper, causing his aura to suddenly collapse. His eyes, no longer glowing, glistened with new hope.

Goldmaw gave her a shrewd look. "Interesting." A hint of a smirk formed. "This of course means that not only were you placed with a Witch, but that entire folders of legal forms have been incorrectly filled out. We shall need to get them re-completed. I look forward to having the Headmaster billed for the time it takes, due to his deliberate fraud. However, moving on, Veritaserum should prove unnecessary as we shall see if the Magic agrees with you?"

Harry nodded. "Please, Goldmaw."

The goblin placed a golden needle and a shallow inkwell on the table in front of Harry and pushed a sheet of parchment over to Holly. "If you would read the words on the page, Madam Evans. After which, Mr Potter, if you would simply pierce your wand hand and let your blood drip into the container. The rest will take care of itself. "

Holly read off the parchment, "I, Holly Evans, do solemnly declare, as the guardian of Harry Potter, that I grant him my permission to complete the Ritus Hereditas." A soft glow encompassed the inkwell as she finished speaking.

Harry took the needle, piercing the palm of his right hand, allowing the blood to drip down his fingers and into the inkwell. Moments later, the phoenix feather quill beside the solicitor arose and began writing; the ink was a dark red.

_The Noble House of Potter _

To the intense surprise of both humans, and the apparent satisfaction of the goblin, the quill continued to write.

_The Most Glorious and Noble House of Gryffindor._

"Is this true?" Harry asked incredulously.

"As it was for your father and his father before him. Though neither man were able to gain entry to the Ancient Vaults. It is not enough to merely be of the Blood, there must be something more." The Goblin was opening a particularly well-sealed container. He presented it to Harry.

"What must I do to claim my inheritance?" Harry had grown pale at the mention of his father.

Goldmaw nodded in approval of the straight to the point manner that the new Lord Potter possessed. "It is a simple matter. Take the ring from this box, and place it upon your ring-finger."

Harry complied, admiring the image graven into the face of the signet ring. The instant he placed the ring on his finger, a faint glow began, growing in intensity until it flooded the large room, blinding all the occupants. Harry, himself, felt a sense of love and warmth spread out from the ring to encompass him. He was pleased to find that, though the glow faded quickly, the feeling of love remained behind.

"Whoa!" He whispered.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Goldmaw had expected the ring to react, but nothing had prepared him for such a powerful response.

Holly was watching Harry carefully. Lordship of a noble house could easily carry with it unpleasant side effects, some of the Darker families ensorcelled their family signets to ensure that the head of the household was of the…appropriate…temperament. Though it was doubtful that a family as long entrenched in the Light would have any such effect, it paid to be cautious. "Harry?"

Harry smiled up at his aunt, and then focussed his gaze on the Goblin. "I'm fine. I'm fine. The ring, my family, approves of me." An ironicgrin creased his face. "What comes next, Goldmaw?"

Goldmaw narrowed his eyes, the boy…no, young man's posture, his bearing, had changed. He was holding himself straighter, more dignified, quite frankly…somehow more noble. This would bear watching. "To gain the Gryffindor Signet, you will have to gain entry to the vault." He turned towards the door. "Griphook, summon the Keeper of Secrets." He turned back to the two humans, "If you would follow me."

Both stood, and followed behind the goblin. He led them through a number of corridors and down a flight of stairs into a small, featureless room. Waiting for them was a robed and hooded goblin.

"Another pretender, Goldmaw? That would make six this century." The sarcasm in the old goblin's voice grated at them.

Goldmaw shrugged, and stepped to the side. "I present Lord Potter, as I have twice before, of the blood of Gryffindor, that his worthiness be put to the test."

Harry gasped in surprise, only just realising what the goblin's previous words had only implied, Goldmaw had known both Harry's father and grandfather.

The cloaked goblin nodded, "Very well, I will speak the words for you, Lord Potter, as I have spoken them for your ancestors for over three hundred years. _You stand within the Hall of Ancient Blood, and it is here that you will find the Vaults of the oldest families_."

As the last word passed the ancient Goblin's withered lips, a change fell upon them, and the huge hexagonal chamber was revealed in all its glory. Marble and granite made up the walls, floor, and ceiling; carved with scenes of great battles and mystical creatures, as with most such images in the wizarding world, they moved slowly acting out their parts in a grand drama. Mid-way along each wall, melded perfectly into the surrounding imagery, was a family crest. The one Goldmaw led them to was very familiar to Harry.

"Gryffindor." Awe clearly heard in his voice.

"Indeed. This is as close as we may approach, and I urge you not approach any other wall. Had you any claim to those families we would already know. Now step forward to the Gryffindor crest and place your hand upon it."

Harry walked forwards, reaching out with his right hand, the Potter signet sparkling in the torchlight, and touching the centre of the shield.

Holly leant down to speak to the goblin at her side, "Is it safe?"

"Had he not the Right to be here, he would already be dead. The defences in this room were set in place by the mightiest workers of the Art that have ever existed." Goldmaw seemed to take great joy in putting the witch in her place.

As Harry touched the wall, it became insubstantial, and he found himself able to step through it. He did so without so much as a rearward glance.

The hooded one nodded to itself. "Now he must prove to himself that he is worthy."

Holly couldn't help herself, "What do you mean? Prove to himself?"

The goblins shared a look, shook their heads and watched the wall in silence.

She looked from one to the other, muttered something inauspicious, then sat on the steps to wait for Harry to return.

* * *

Author Note:

Sorry for the cliffie, but its 2am andif you knew what I look like, you'd know I need my beauty sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless Hollywood for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter Three.**

* * *

Voldemort was ensconced in his ebon throne, a figure of grim majesty, while around him his Death Eaters capered, pranced, and grovelled.

It was all he could do to **not** slaughter the lot of them. Twenty years he had invested in these people, and still they were little more than they had started out as. _Had I not forced their submission, had I not bound them to my side, they would still be power hungry and a danger to the world around them._

He folded away the _Daily Prophet_ and glared down at the remnants of his inner circle, his tone of voice clipped and short. "Why is it that I must await the arrival of the morning newspaper to learn that I sent a group of Death Eaters out to kill Potter?"

The Death Eaters before him just looked up at him in shock.

"I am VERY disappointed. All of you, I want to find out how this happened. You four will find out where he has been moved to." He paused a moment to consider the remaining two Death Eaters. "Severus, return to the Old Man's side…let him know that we are looking for the boy. Bella, return to your duties."

The Death Eaters remained where they were.

Voldemort nodded, "Do not fail me in this…_Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio_."

The screams of his followers were gratifying, but never amounted to anything.

"Now go."

The Death Eaters quickly backed away, fleeing out through the doors and away.

Voldemort sunk back into his throne and let his mind drift slowly and gently down a, now, well trod path…into another younger, fresher mind…

* * *

Harry felt a faint tingling sensation as he passed through the wall, not dissimilar to the feeling of passing into Platform 9 ¾.

Even as that thought was settling about him, he was through, his faint footsteps echoing in the vast and cavernous chamber.

"So this is the Gryffindor Vault?" Harry sounded less than awed.

And not surprisingly…the chamber was empty, bare rock and a handful of empty shelves around the edges. In the distance he could see a trio of full sized paintings mounted, or perhaps just leaning, against the wall. Finally, slumped against one wall, and slumped was the correct descriptive, was a battered chest.

Harry shook his head and chuckled at his own disappointment. He knew he had been expecting huge piles of Galleons and weapons, suits of armour lining the walls, maybe even banners lining the walls and hanging from the ceilings.

"A vault of this size, and not so much as a Knut to its name." Harry took out his money pouch, quickly counted out it's contents and, figuring that he would be heading down to his personal vault shortly, emptied it's contents onto the floor in the centre of the chamber.

The echo of falling coins died away quickly. Harry started towards the chest, and froze when he heard a faint clink behind him. Turning to look back at the small pile of Galleons, he gasped as he saw a Knut appear at the top of the pile and slide down to join the one that had appeared moments before.

Mesmerised by the magically appearing money, Harry only tore his gaze away when the pile of Knuts vanished to be replaced by the sudden appearance of a silver Sickle.

Harry shook his head once more, and quickly walked over to the chest.

The chest was old. The wood bore the patina of ages, the metal bindings were pitted and corroded by the passage of time. The lid was engraved with the familiar crest of the Gryffindor family.

Harry carefully touched the lid, gently sweeping aside the thick layer of dust that had accumulated. Working up his nerve, he lifted the lid…and it was empty.

Harry blinked a couple of times, and started laughing. With a final snort, he carefully lowered the lid of the chest and strode away from it.

He quickly approached the three paintings.

Though, like the chest, the ravages of time had taken their toll, the three paintings were all quite striking. Unlike many painting Harry had seen in his time in the magical world, these were the work of master painters. True artists the likes of Titian, Van Gogh, or Michelangelo had been responsible for these paintings. Most paintings in the wizarding world were mediocre at best and relied on enchantment to give them life. Not these paintings, for even stationary they had more life and emotion than anything Harry had seen in Hogwarts.

The first was of a woman, stern and terrible in aspect. Her eyes appeared to flash with barely suppressed anger. Robed in deep red and gold, she had a wand held at her side, giving the impression that had the artist not met her satisfaction, he would doubtless be a toad moments later.

Harry shuddered under that implacable gaze, but did not flinch.

The second painting was of a tired old man. The burdens of a long and hard life having taken their toll on his bent and broken body. He was garbed in crimson and gold robes, their grandeur long lost to tatters and fading. The figure, though seated, leaned heavily upon the hilt of a sheathed sword. A sword bearing the crest of Gryffindor.

Harry felt pity and sorrow as he looked upon the broken figure of what could only be Godric Gryffindor.

The enchantments that had once animated these painting had long since faded from disuse.

Harry then turned his attention to the third painting and immediately blushed crimson.

The painting was of a man and a woman.

A naked man and woman.

More to the point it was a naked man and woman whose faces were vaguely familiar to him.

But worse still was the fact that the enchantments on this painting were still quite functional.

"Ummm…excuse me?" Harry asked covering his eyes with his hands.

"What was that, lad? Oh, I say Helga. Look, another Gryffindor heir." A deeply masculine voice spoke, good humor clear in it's tone.

"Why yes, and he's blushing so sweetly too. You may look now dear." A firm, motherly voice said, with the faintest hint of mischief.

Harry looked up from his hands and saw more in those few moments than his teachers back in primary school had taught during those old mandatory sex education classes. His face turned bright red and he covered his eyes again. "You said I could look now." He accused.

Both voiced were now laughing, but it wasn't a malicious laugh, more a kindly chuckle.

"Of course you may look, we have nothing to hide, quite literally." The masculine voice spoke.

"We seem to have this conversation with about half of you." The female said good-humouredly. "Of course the other half gets a little too enthusiastic about watching, if you get my meaning." She laughed.

Harry peeked up at them, they were both now sitting on the bed they had been…cavorting…on before, with a sheet covering them, well mostly covering them. "I'm Harry Potter." He smiled up at them shyly.

The woman looked at him carefully, "The son of James? Yes, you definitely have the Potter look." She frowned at him. "You're a little small though," She smiled again, "But those gorgeous eyes will certainly make up the difference, take your glasses off for a moment would you."

Harry was blushing again, and took off his glasses. Looking up at the, now blurry and indistinct, painting.

"Oh, my…" The female voice was almost purring.

Harry put his glasses on again. "What?" He was looking around himself.

The two in the painting just laughed at his confusion.

"Don't worry yourself, lad. Helga is just getting a little ahead of herself." The male said.

Harry's brow furrowed, "Forgive my ignorance, but you both seem familiar, and I cannot place where I know you from."

The two looked at each other as though sharing a private joke.

"You attend Hogwarts, do you not?" She asked.

"Yes, I just completed my fifth year."

"Are you by any chance a Huff…no, no, of course you're not." She chuckled to herself, "You'd be in Gryffindor of course."

Harry felt a little annoyed at being instantly classified like that. "The Hat felt I would do very well in Slytherin, thank you very much."

The female in the painting just blinked at Harry, totally gobsmacked. The male laughed uproariously, falling off the other side of the bed.

"But, but, but…the Hat would have known about you being Godric's heir…" She was struggling to get a grip on her shock.

"I am a Parselmouth after all." Harry was really beginning to enjoy the paintings shocked reaction.

The female in the painting fainted at that.

"Are you really, lad?" The male had climbed back into bed.

Harry just nodded.

"Who would have ever thought that ability would resurface, and in Godric's line of all places." He laughed, a deep pleasant sounding laugh. "He'd be rolling over in his grave…as would Salazar."

"It sounds like you knew them, sir." Harry was looking thoughtful now.

"Oh, but I did. Who do you think built that bloody castle of theirs?"

"Huh?" Harry looked shocked now. "But I was told that the four Founders built the school."

"Enchanted it perhaps, but have you ever heard of a wizard dirtying their hands with manual labour?" The powerfully built man in the painting shook his head. "No. Me either."

"Who are you, sir?"

"Ah, forgive me for allowing the discussion to get sidetracked. I am Angrod Hufflepuff, Mastermason, and Overseer of the construction of Hogwarts." He nodded to Harry. "And in deference to your modesty, I'll not get up and bow." He laughed.

"My thanks." Harry muttered sardonically.

"Now tell me, are you really a little snake, or were you pulling our legs?" He asked as the female was just getting up again.

"I spoke truth, the Hat did say that I would do well in Slytherin…but I chose instead to be placed in Gryffindor." Harry smiled up at them.

"You sneaky little…hmmm…well obviously the Hat was right as always, but your own choice, huh?" She looked at him speculatively.

Harry matched her gaze.

"I am Helga Hufflepuff, one of the Archmagi responsible for the creation of Hogwarts. You would recognise us, mainly, because painting was one of my passions." She smiled at the man beside her, "And I could hardly let a magnificent specimen like this go unrecorded." She indicated the rather sizable lump in the bed beside her that Harry had been studiously ignoring. She laughed again.

Harry looked around him at the bare vault again, then back at the painting. "Why..?"

"Why is the Gryffindor vault empty?" Helga completed the question Harry was asking.

"Yes."

"Because generations of Potters have plundered its riches. What good would leaving useful things here do them in the present? The only things that remain are we three paintings, and Godric's chest over there."

"It's empty as well. I just checked." Harry sounded a little defeated.

She smiled down at him. "Don't despair now, did you cut your hand an smear some of your Gryffindor blood upon the crest? No? Well then…" She made shooing gestures at him.

Harry spun around and jogged back to the chest. "Right. Now to cut my hand…"

Harry stopped.

He didn't have a knife, or anything sharp whatsoever.

"Damn. Where's that sword when you really need it." Harry was digging through his pockets, coming up with a few coins, that he dropped on the floor, a couple of odds and ends, and finally the metal nib from a quill. "Well hows about that."

He grit his teeth, and sliced into his hand with the piece of rather blunt metal. "GARRRRRRR…BASTARD…"

"Are you all right?" The faint voice from the portrait called out.

Harry watched as the blood began pooling in the palm of his hand, then quickly smeared it over the Gryffindor crest on the lid of the ancient chest.

Harry watched in amazement as the blood soaked into the crest, a faint white light glowing out from the seams of the chest, leaking out from inside. He felt a faint tingling from his hand and quickly pulled it away…he looked at it and discovered it already beginning to heal.

Harry carefully lifted the lid of the once again quiescent chest.

The inside was now lined with faded, tattered crimson material with gold embroidery that probably once described the Gryffindor crest.

But it was the contents of the chest that interested Harry.

A scabbard of a size that he knew would suit the sword he had pulled from the Sorting Hat back in second year. It was covered in some form of leather, with gold fittings.

A large tome with the words Codex Gryffindor inscribed on the spine and the Gryffindor crest inscribed on the cover. It appeared to be bound in a similar leather to the scabbard, with gold fittings once again.

Finally, there was a ring. The Gryffindor signet ring.

Harry reached into the chest for the ring, but stopped before he touched it and withdrew his hand.

"It can't be that easy." Harry muttered to himself. "After everything else that's happened, it can't be that easy."

"Quite correct, young man." A distinguished voice spoke up from behind him.

Harry rose slowly to his feet and turned around.

Before him stood the old man from the second painting, but more alive, more vital.

Harry bowed respectfully, and looked once more into his eyes.

The tired figure looked down at Harry thoughtfully. "There is basilisk venom flowing within your veins, moreso…it is the venom of none less than Slytherin's creature…and yet you live."

"A phoenix saved me after I killed the basilisk."

A look of concern entered the old man's eyes, "Why may I ask were you, a mere boy, fighting a fully grown basilisk? Glory? Renown? Gold?"

Harry scowled, in his mind's eye flashes of the chamber appeared. Ginny laying on the cold stone. The feelings of terror at her stillness and the desperation to keep her safe. Killing the Basilisk and then the Diary before she woke up to his relief. "To save the life of my best friends sister. I went because no one else would. No one would believe me."

The old man reached forward to touch Harry's forehead. "I sense darkness, watchfulness." The old mans finger made contact with the scar and he felt a faint tingle, and then a burning, sizzling pain.

* * *

Voldemort slumped back onto his throne, blinking in surprise.

"Well, that explains why the Malfoy brat failed to poison him last year." He slowly rose from his throne and strode to his chambers.

_The Hat wanted him in Slytherin…the similarities between Potter and myself continue to add up._

Voldemort took out an ancient text and continued researching…

Leaning back in his chair, Voldemort stroked his chin pensively. "That explains not only what happened to the Basilisk, but the Diary as well. I shall have to reprimand Lucius' son for his father not informing me." He paused and a light of comprehension entered his eyes. "Of course, the girl. The Weasley girl. The diary would have possessed her. To have Potter go and rescue her from durance vile, yes this explains much, especially the changes in her. It explains everything. He is everything I thought him to be. Yes, this is the proof I needed. He won't even realise what it means until it is too late. Yes, this will work perfectly." Smirking to himself, he turned back to his text and continued his research, soon. It would all come together and he would have what he sought.

* * *

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry roared. "What the hell was that for?"

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Is that any way to speak to your elders?"

"It is when they stab you in the head!" Harry snarled.

"There was a malign presence about you, something relating to that curse scar upon your brow. I banished it…sadly it will only be a temporary state."

Harry paused, his anger freezing with horror. "Voldemort."

"Young James made mention of that name. What is this connection you bear?"

"I am Harry, son of James and Lily. On the Halloween of the year I was one, Voldemort came to our house to kill me. He killed my parents when they tried to defend me. Then he cast the killing curse at me."

"And yet, you are still here. Why would a Dark Lord seek to kill a one year old child?"

"There was a prophecy that I would be the one to kill the Dark Lord. The killing curse rebounded off me destroying his body…"

The old man looked thoughtful. "I see. The rebounded curse created a bond between you that allowed his shade to remain in this world after his body's destruction. Only the foulest of magicks could allow for this."

"I figured as much…" Harry muttered.

"Sarcasm now is it?" The old man chuckled. "I take it this Dark Lord is a harmless shade no longer."

Harry shook his head.

"Very well. Take the Ring, it will guard you as best it can." He looked at the Potter ring on Harry's hand. "Wear it beside the Potter signet. It will not be seen unless you allow it to be seen, as is the case with most family rings. It is also the key to most of the remaining family artefacts."

Harry retrieved the signet from the chest, placing it on the finger next to his family ring.

"Guard it well, the Gryffindor line has long stood in the light." The old man looked thoughtfully down at Harry. "But do not allow others to define for you what it means to stand in the light. You must be your own man now, for this day you are the Lord of two great families."

Harry's face took on a look of determination. "I will, sir."

The old man nodded and slowly faded from view.

Harry looked around once more, before returning to the paintings.

"Look at you, Lord Gryffindor now. Shall I curtsey?" Helga teased.

Harry blushed at the thought of the naked woman doing that in front of him. "That is not necessary." He said quickly as it looked like she was about to get up and do so.

"You look like you want to ask something."

Harry looked up at the painting, then at the other two paintings, then back at Helga. "If you don't mind, but why are these paintings down here and not hanging on a wall in a mansion or somewhere?"

The occupants of the painting laughed.

"Ginevra Gryffindor over there was such an old battleaxe that she annoyed everyone she met to such a degree that they finally left her here. Sad to say, but Godric at the time I, or should I say, Helga, painted him was barely a shadow of his former self and is quite depressing. Thus he was abandoned here in short order." Helga was trying not to laugh throughout this.

Harry nodded understanding, then looked up at them, "But that doesn't explain why your painting is here."

"Imagine if you can, that you are the mother of a very…active…teenaged boy, who for some reason keeps turning up in front of a certain painting without any pants." Helga was struggling to speak straight for the giggles that kept breaking out of her.

"They got tired of young men coming to us for lessons in technique, you could say." Angrod finished for her.

Harry's face had turned bright red again.

"Never going to look at all those Hufflepuff's back at school the same way again, huh?" Helga chuckled.

Harry shook his head. "I'd better get going. Thank you both again for helping me."

"It was our pleasure." Helga waved to him.

"Come back and talk to us anytime." Angrod nodded.

Harry waved and turned, quickly heading back out through the wall he had entered.

* * *

Author Note:

Sorry it took so damn long to get another chapter out. I've started working again, and my muse is hardly about these days. Hopefully more soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless Hollywood for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter Four.**

* * *

Holly Evans leapt to her feet in shock when Harry returned, his face daubed in blood and staggering, and would have run to his aid immediately had she not been restrained by the cool presence of the two goblins.

Harry paused and stood looking up at the three for a moment. Something about his entire bearing had changed; he carried himself with an air of…nobility almost. "I am Lord Gryffindor."

The two goblins looked at each other with what could easily be interpreted as satisfaction.

"If you would care to return to the meeting room, we still have much to discuss, Lord Gryffindor." Goldmaw turned and strode swiftly up the stairs.

Harry nodded and stepped forward, only to be caught up in a bone-crushing hug from his Aunt.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry chuckled, "I'm fine, just a little cut on my hand." He held up his nearly healed hand to show her, as they both began climbing the stairs out of the Hall of Ancient Blood.

* * *

Once more situated in the lavish comfort of Meeting Room number Six, Harry and Holly took a few moments to take a sip from a fresh cup of tea, and for Holly to cast a quick cleaning charm over Harry.

"Once more to business then, if you would Goldmaw." Harry spoke quietly.

"Of course Mr. Potter." The Goblin opened a file in front of him, and began leafing through the contents. "As you no doubt saw, the Gryffindor vault is more or less empt…" Goldmaw blinked a couple of times at the paper in front of him.

Holly looked at Harry, "It's empty?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, apparently the Potters have pillaged its riches over the centuries." He shrugged.

"Mr. Potter, did you leave behind anything in the vault before you left?" Goldmaw was watching a slowly increasing number on his parchment.

"Yes, I didn't like the idea of a vault with no money, so I emptied my pockets into it. Did I do something wrong?" Harry sounded a little unsure, and looked up at Holly gratefully when she gripped his hand in support.

"Quite to the contrary, Mr. Potter. Quite to the contrary." The goblin placed the sheet of parchment aside. "The Gryffindor Estate, like nearly all else, was long ago absorbed into the Potter holdings and can be accessed by using either of your two rings as a portkey. There are a number of land holdings around Britain and Europe, which you can examine at your leisure."

Holly gasped at that. Harry just nodded.

"Finally, you should be aware that you now possess two seats on the Wizengamot. The Potter seat is currently proxied to Albus Dumbledore, the Gryffindor seat sits empty beside the seats of the other three founders."

"Dumbledore, huh? Why am I not surprised?" Harry frowned and shook his head.

"The contents of this file are yours to peruse in your own time. We come now to the last Will and Testament of one Sirius Orion Black."

Harry paled, tears beginning to form in his eyes. Holly noticed and wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders.

"The short version, Mr. Potter, is that he left you everything." Goldmaw actually smiled at that point, his gold-capped teeth glinting dangerously in the light.

"Everything?" Holly squeaked.

"Everything." Goldmaw confirmed, placing a small box on the table in front of Harry. "I recommend placing it on the ring finger of your left hand."

Harry opened the box, somewhat in shock. There, crouched malevolently in the midnight silk, was the Black family signet. He looked up at Holly for reassurance.

Holly was looking at the ring, her earlier concerns about the Potter and Gryffindor rings brought sharply into focus…here was the signet of a dark-aligned family. She nodded to Harry, but a shadow remained in her eyes as she watched him.

Harry grasped the ring, and quickly slid it onto his left ring finger. Then the pain hit.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to find a pair of worried green eyes peering down at him.

"Harry?" His Aunt sounded very worried.

He blinked a couple of times. "Yeah, I'm fine…ummm…can you help me up?" He couldn't move for some reason.

"_Finite_. Sorry, but you were thrashing around a bit." She waved her wand at him, releasing him from the magical bindings.

He sat up and looked around, much of the rooms' furnishings were destroyed, and there were a number of scorch marks on the walls, floor and ceiling. "What happened?"

"It would appear that the Black family felt that it would be inappropriate for a Light-aligned wizard to be their ruling Lord." Goldmaw spoke from the other side of a knocked over table. "If you wouldn't mind, Madam Evans?" He indicated the damaged table and chairs.

Holly began casting repair charms over most of the damaged furnishings.

"I'm really very sorry about causing all this damage, Goldmaw…" Harry was interrupted.

"Mention it not, Mr. Potter. We, at Gringotts, are well accustomed to the foibles of the great families, and thus no responsibility accrues to your person. More to the point, you appear to have come through the ordeal intact, a feat men and women much older and more experienced than yourself have failed." The goblin nodded approvingly. "No Mr. Potter, a little mayhem serves but to liven up my day."

The three of them returned to the table as a fresh cup of tea was served by a nervous young goblin.

"Now, while Sirius Black did leave everything to you, he did leave a couple of requests for you. You need not fulfil them, you are Lord Black after all."

"Why couldn't he simply make the requests part of his will?" Harry asked.

"Mainly because Sirius Black never formally accepted the title of Lord Black." Goldmaw replied.

"Then how can he pass it on to me? Why isn't it going to Draco Malfoy?"

"Sirius Black was the heir to the Black title, as you are the heir of Sirius Black, the title gets passed to you first. You are in fact blood related to the Blacks via your paternal great-grandmother. As such, and with the endorsement of the then current heir, there can be no contest." Goldmaw opened the file in front of him, taking out a sheet of parchment. "The ring is on your hand, none may question your title now."

Harry nodded. "What were these requests?"

Goldmaw nodded approvingly, and slid the letter across the table to Harry.

* * *

_Dear Prongslet,_

_Heh, yeah I know, you hated that, but it's not like I'll get many more opportunities to harass you about it. Anyway, I wanted to hand out a few odds and ends to the people in our lives and make sure a few other details were sorted out. If you're reading this and not blasting random pieces of scenery, it means you're a stronger man than I was. I held the ring only once, and did not dare put it on. If you are blasting random pieces of scenery, then I'm sorry for putting you through this ordeal._

_You have a probably quite impatient goblin watching you, so I'll get right down to business._

_For Remus Lupin, my brother, I wish for an account to be placed at Madam Malkin's to the value of 2000 galleons a year for the balance of his life, to be withdrawn from the Black vault. Any credit remaining at the end of each year to be given to Snivellus. I also ask that he be given a place to stay in any of the Black holdings. I don't want to see him living in squalor again._

_For Rubeus Hagrid, the first person to befriend you Harry, I wish for a similar account to be set up with Madam Malkin. He'll never get his lady if he cannot dress well. 1000 galleons a year from the Black vault should see him well enough, but likewise if he doesn't use it, it goes to Snivellus._

_For Ronald Weasley, your steadfast friend, I wish that the one-sixth partnership in the Chudley Cannons that I acquired in a game of chance a year ago be granted to him. Perhaps they'll win a game for him sometime._

_For Hermione Granger, the most loyal of your friends, I have something else in mind. I wish that the Kingsbridge house, lands and holdings be granted to her and her offspring in perpetuity under the aegis of the Most Ancient and Noble House Black. The wording is specific, don't get it wrong._

_For the Weasley family, who took you in as one of their own, I wish for an account to be established with Golbang, Golbang, and Greengrass Construction to a value of 150000 galleons for the refurbishment or reconstruction of their home. We are at war, and I know what the loss of their home would do to them. Again, paid for from the Black vault._

_For Ginevra Weasley, who took the time to befriend me (of all people) last summer, I wish for the large chest at the back of the Black vault, the one marked with the crest of the pirate Emanuel Wynne, to be placed in trust for her dowry. She's worth it._

_For Fred and George Weasley, who brightened my time mired you-know-where with their tricks and pranks, I wish for the Black family's one-quarter partnership in Zonko's to be transferred to their name. That should liven things up a little don't you think. Also, somewhere in the Potter library is a number of books written by the Marauders that the twins might find useful with that joke shop of yours. Yes, I know who funded it. Brilliant idea, if things had gone differently I might have done it myself when I left Hogwarts._

_At your earliest convenience, return to my home and restore Andromeda and Nymphadora (heh) to the Family tapestry. The means to do so is in the Black Codex. I would recommend using the opportunity to disown certain other family members, but that is really your call._

_That said, I ask that you grant Andromeda her dowry, and pass on to her my congratulations for having escaped the family._

_Likewise, inform Nymphadora that she is still a Black and that her dowry is being kept in trust for her wedding. It'll give you a great opportunity to call her Nymphadora a couple of dozen times without repercussion._

_I ask that you allow the gathering of the fried chicken to continue using my home, but give them all a sirius kick up the ass for me. Particularly the chief._

_All said and done, I'm just sorry that you reading this means I cannot be there for you._

_Live long, become an illegal animagus, make us all proud._

_And I don't want to see you up here without a whole herd of Potters running loose down there when you're done._

_Sirius Orion Black._

_Padfoot._

* * *

Harry had tears running down his cheeks by the time he had finished reading the letter.

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and then looked at the goblin, who was indeed looking a little impatient. "Sorry for taking so long Goldmaw."

The goblin sipped his tea again and looked at the young lord in front of him. "Do you intend to fulfil the last requests of Sirius Black?"

"I do."

"Very well, sign these authorities for the transfer of funds for Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid, and Arthur and Molly Weasley." Goldmaw passed several sheets of parchment across to Harry along with sealing wax.

Harry signed, then upon direction from Goldmaw, imprinted each form with the Black signet, releasing a small burst of magic each time. "Is that normal, Goldmaw?"

Goldmaw nodded, "These contracts are magically sealed. They cannot be faked or reproduced." He took out another handful of sheets of parchment. "Now, the transfer of partnership for the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Team is easily enough arranged, simply sign and place your signet. The transfer of Zonko's Joke Shop is a little more difficult. As it was left to two individuals, we have broken the quarter into two one-eighth partnerships, pending your approval, of course."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Isn't it illegal for this kind of anti-competitive behaviour?"

The goblin looked at Harry speculatively. "The wizarding world has never had to deal with the kind of abuses that the muggle world takes for granted, so for the time being, no." He chuckled.

Harry shrugged and signed the three papers.

"Now the matter of Miss Ginevra Weasley's dowry. Do you wish to examine the contents of the chest before it is placed aside?"

"I'm sure Sirius knew what he was doing." Harry said, just wanting to get it out of the way.

Goldmaw watched the young wizard again. "Very well. The requests relating to Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks cannot be carried out until they have been restored to the family line. The other requests are obviously intended for you directly, though I will mention that becoming an unregistered animagus is not a sensible course of action for the Lord of **three** great families."

Harry nodded.

"Now finally, the request for Miss Granger. The procedure for this is a little more involved than simply the transfer of properties. I am required to gather a number of witnesses for this." The goblin rang a bell.

Griphook entered the room. "The witnesses have been gathered, is it time?"

"It is."

Griphook stepped out of the room. Moments later he returned, holding the door open while five extravagantly garbed goblins entered, followed by a rather surprised Percy Weasley who quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression.

Harry frowned at the outcast Weasley brother, when Goldmaw cleared his throat.

"These are the witnesses, Lord Black, to your enfranchisement of Miss Granger. They are Blagstiff, Cobol, Frondak, Hellmaw and Ragnok, all Managers of the various divisions here at Gringotts. Representing the Ministry is Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Percival Weasley

Harry rose to his feet and bowed respectfully to the managers, largely disregarding Percy. "Thank you for your valuable time."

"Now, you must speak the words." Goldmaw moved to join his fellow goblins.

Harry cleared his throat, suddenly nervous before such powerful personages. A feeling of comfort radiated through his body from his right hand, settling his nerves. "I, Lord Black, do grant the Kingsbridge house, lands and holdings unto Hermione Granger and her offspring in perpetuity under the aegis of the Most Ancient and Noble House Black." During the recitation, Harry's whole demeanor had changed, from nervous young man to confident young lord.

The goblins all murmured among themselves for a moment, then replied as one, "Heard and Witnessed."

Percy was in shock. The recent revelation that the Dark Lord had indeed returned had shaken Percy out of his complacency. That Harry had been telling the truth for over a year now and had been unfairly slandered at Fudge's behest, was all too apparent. That the so called 'sadly delusional, attention seeking liar' was the new Lord Black, head of one of the most feared and ancient Dark families in Europe was an interesting development. That his first action was to make a muggleborn into a landholder and thus, her children when she had them, into Purebloods under the protection of House Black, revealed a political naivety that would swiftly result in his certain destruction…unless someone advised him. _Naïve yes, but it also highlights his intense loyalty to those close to him._ Percy suddenly realised that proceedings were waiting upon him, "Heard and Witnessed…Lord Black." He made a subtle gesture with his left hand, before folding his hands up into the loose sleeves of his robe of office. _I hope Harry understands, there is far too much at risk here._

Harry's eyes flew open as the five filed out of the room again, followed by a very reluctant Percy Weasley. Percy had quite deliberately flashed the Gryffindor Quidditch Team's hand signal for '_I've got a plan, trust me_.' Harry nodded faintly, he was willing to give Percy the benefit of the doubt.

Goldmaw returned to his seat and completed the paperwork for Hermione Granger's enfranchisement.

Harry returned to his seat beside a very proud Holly, and watched the goblin at work.

A few minutes later Goldmaw asked Harry to sign and affix his seal to the parchment. A substantial flash of golden light filled the room briefly, leaving the previously red sealing wax a dark golden colour.

* * *

Halfway across London, Hermione Granger was sitting down to lunch with her parents when to all their surprise a golden glow encompassed her, blinding them all momentarily.

"What was that, honey? I thought you weren't allowed to use magic out of school." Helen Granger, more curious than worried.

"I have no idea. It might have been accidental magic, but I cannot imagine what caused it." Hermione was a little curious herself.

"Perhaps you could ask Molly or Arthur about it when you visit them later in the summer." Dan said, turning back to his medical journal. "Don't forget your potions, now."

"I think I will." Hermione said, mostly to herself, as she drank down the rather awful tasting potions before starting her lunch.

* * *

"Your business is now complete with us, Mr. Potter. Griphook will accompany you down to your vaults if you wish to visit them." Goldmaw rose to his feet, collected up his paperwork and after a quick bow to Harry, left.

Harry returned Goldmaw's bow and turned to Griphook. "Yes, we will need a substantial sum of money, both wizarding and muggle." He looked to Holly for confirmation.

"Yes, quite a bit." She nodded.

"Follow me then." Griphook led them to the carts, and down into the depths.

Their first stop was Harry's trust vault.

"Griphook, I hardly need a trust vault any longer. Could you arrange for this vault to be set up in preparation for the first of my own children. With, shall we say, a starting balance of twenty thousand galleons, with the remainder being shifted up to the Gryffindor vault." Harry was looking thoughtful.

Griphook blinked in shock. "Of-of course, Mr. Potter." He withdrew a slate from the cart and inscribed Harry's request. "If you could place your signet here to confirm the request, the Potter one." Griphook clarified when Harry looked unsure.

Harry pressed the Potter signet to the slate. He looked once more at the contents of the vault, which were now much reduced.

* * *

The ride back up to the Black vault was pretty quiet.

As was Harry's time alone inside it.

What he saw while within that vault he would never talk about, nor would he ever allow anyone to accompany him inside…but the haunted look in his eyes after each visit spoke volumes.

His order to have half the remaining Black fortune immediately shifted to the Gryffindor vault came as no surprise to either Griphook or Holly, one look in his eyes said it all.

* * *

Goldmaw looked up from his desk. His personal power within the goblin nation had just taken a significant boost. _Young Potter must have transferred a substantial amount of funds into the Gryffindor vault. Interesting. Very Interesting. At this rate I may soon overtake Ragnok as foremost on the Goblin Council…_

* * *

The cart rolled only a couple of dozen yards before stopping outside the Potter family vault.

Harry entered this vault with a feeling of optimism. Looking around him, he saw what he had expected to see when he had entered the Gryffindor vault. Vast piles of coin, suits of armour, weapons of all kinds, gems, jewellery, tapestries, and banners adorning walls and ceiling. Row after row of books lined the wall to his left, whiles chests and trunks were piled together along the length of the wall to his right.

He filled several bags with galleons and left them piled by the entrance while he explored a little.

Sitting haphazardly atop a neatly stacked row of tomes, was a book that looked a little out of place. Upon the cover was a picture of a muggle hot air balloon. Harry picked it up, opening it to the first page.

It was a photo of a much younger Remus Lupin dozing on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. As Harry watched, a young Sirius and James popped up from behind the couch and dumped a large bucket of ice water over the helpless Moony, who yelled, leapt up and jumped over the couch to tackle the other two. Harry couldn't help himself, as the laughter bubbled out of him.

"Harry? We have places to go. Are you done?" Holly's voice could barely be heard.

Harry closed the photo album, tucked it under his arm and ran back to the entrance snatching up the bags of galleons on his way.

"What's that, Harry?" She asked when he reappeared.

"A photo album from my parent's time in school. I think. I want to check it out."

Holly nodded, "Perhaps we can look at it together later."

"I'd like that." Harry climbed into the cart and they rushed to the surface.

* * *

A few minutes at the currency exchange counter left them with sufficient muggle currency to last them a while, and they headed out into Diagon Alley once again, with their cowls pulled close about their faces. As they walked out of the bank, someone who had obviously been waiting for them stepped into their path.

Percy, his hands empty and spread out non-threateningly, spoke quickly. "Lord Black, may I have a few words?"

Harry looked briefly at Holly, who nodded. "Yes, but make it quick Mr. Weasley." He spoke in little above a hoarse whisper.

Percy nodded approvingly. _Perhaps he is not totally naïve, or perhaps the woman advises him, nevertheless._ "Lord Black, with your assumption of your title, you have entered a new area of conflict. Politics. If you find yourself in need of advice in this field, I would be honoured to assist you."

Harry looked at the estranged Weasley for a few moments. "A rather sudden about face for you isn't that?"

The redhead nodded. "I was wrong, and wish to make amends. This is the one area where I **can** help you."

"I will consider your offer," Harry stepped closer, his voice lowering menacingly, "I don't want to hear about how I was out and about in Diagon Alley the day after I went missing. Prove to me that my trust in you, Percy, is not misplaced."

Percy lowered his head, took out his wand slowly, very aware that the woman with Harry had hers trained on him, and spoke quietly, "I swear on my magic to never willingly betray the trust you have given me, Harry." A faint glow spread out from end of his wand.

"A true oath. You can trust his word." The woman was speaking. "I recommend you learn Occlumency, Mr Weasley."

The two strode past Percy, heading away down Diagon Alley, before he could speak again.

Percy slowly made his way back to his desk in front of the Minister's office, carefully planning the memo to Fudge about how he had been called to Gringotts for another meaningless ceremony of no importance.

* * *

At close of trading that evening, the seating arrangements came as quite a surprise to the six most powerful Goblins in Europe. Goldmaw had indeed moved up in standing, though still eclipsed by that of Ragnok, in whose care stood the Ravenclaw vault, it's hoard untouched these past three centuries.

"Ragnok." Goldmaw nodded to his superior, the nod of a near equal.

Ragnok smiled, he had ruled Goblinkind for over four hundred years, bringing them safely through two civil wars, five wizard wars, two world wars, a handful of skirmishes, and one 'police action.' He was tired. "Not yet Goldmaw, not yet." He turned to the other managers, "It is time for the daily reports. Cobol, we shall begin with you."

* * *

Author Note:

Percy's sudden about face will be explained in subsequent chapters. As will the fate of Mundungus Fletcher. Never fear.


	5. Chapter 5

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless Hollywood for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter Five.**

* * *

**Earlier that day.**

"Oh, this is terrible. Absolutely terrible." Molly Weasley was about midway through what her children had come to know as the 'How Could Something Like This Happen Rant #7'.

Ron looked at his siblings, sighed, and seeing that none of them would, interrupted her, "Mum, are you going to be with the Order today? 'Cause Ginny and I were going to practice Quidditch this morning."

Molly blinked a couple of times. "How can you be thinking about Quidditch when Harry is missing and probably hurt and…" Her legendary temper beginning to fire up as she turned her attention on her youngest son.

"MUM," Ginny interrupted this time. "We have to do something. You'd rather we focus on how we weren't there to help him when he needed us?" Tears began welling up in her eyes as she sniffed unhappily.

Molly froze stunned, then gathered her two youngest up in a huge motherly hug. "I'm sorry, I know how worried you must be. Yes, you two stay here at the Burrow and keep busy." Delivering a kiss to the cheek of her children, she continued, "Just mind that you don't leave the wards."

"We won't, we promise," the two replied in unison.

Arthur gave his youngest children a quick shoulder squeeze as he passed on his way to the floo, whispering, "Well done." He kissed his wife on the cheek, "Take care love. I'll meet you at Headquarters this evening then?"

Molly nodded, "Albus called earlier. I'll be there most of the day."

"Right, Ministry of Magic," Knowing that his wife would be fine with something productive to keep her occupied, Arthur leapt into the floo, vanishing instantly in a burst of green flame.

The twins, Fred and George, had spent the entire morning thus far in a huddle, barely speaking to each other in that way twins have of communicating. "We'll be off then too, Mum." "Can't stay here lounging around when there's." "Gainful employment to be had." They each swooped in to give their mother a quick peck on the cheek before rushing off to the floo. "Diagon Alley," at which they both disappeared.

Their mother could only look on in astonishment at her mischievous sons' sudden and newfound sense of responsibility. "Well…"

Pulling herself together, Molly finished cleaning up after breakfast and prepared to head off to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. "You two take care now."

"We will Mum." Ginny smiled.

"There are sandwiches in the cooler for lunch."

"Thanks Mum," Ron kissed his mother and helped Ginny usher her towards the floo.

"Floo me at Headquarters if you need anything."

"We won't need anything," Ginny hugged her mother, "but if we do, we'll floo you." She finished before Molly could interrupt.

"Have I got everything?" Molly asked herself.

"If you have forgotten anything floo us and we'll send it through to you." Ron said reassuringly.

Molly hugged her children again, suddenly hit with a faint premonition that she would never see them again. "The Black Residence." With that the Weasley matriarch vanished.

Ginny turned to Ron, "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

He laughed, "Well someone had to cut off that rant. Thanks for the save, by the way."

She shook her head, "Now what's this about Quidditch practice?"

Ron looked at her seriously, "Now don't get me wrong, I'm as worried as anyone about Harry, but with Angela and Alacia graduating, we're down two Chasers. In addition to losing the twins and Katie having to focus this year on her NEWTs, Gryffindor is pretty much going to have to train an entirely new team. I just figured that you might like to get a head start at Chaser, and I could use the practice at keeping."

"What about Harry's lifetime ban? Won't we need a Seeker as well?"

Ron held up a rather thick book, "I had Dad get a copy of the International Rules from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Umbitch had no authority to issue a ban of that type. At most, her 'authority' would extend to his time in Hogwarts. As it is, I'll be talking to Harry later about making an official complaint to the International Quidditch Commission about his ban. Not only should it get his position reinstated, but he'll probably be compensated for his loss of playing time."

Ginny was looking at her brother like he had suddenly sprouted a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

"What?"

"Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

"What?" Ron rolled his eyes at her. "It's about Quidditch. Are you really that surprised?"

Ginny thought about it for a moment, "I guess not. To the orchard then?"

Ron reverently deposited the large book on the couch and followed his sister outside.

* * *

Luna had risen early.

She had been waiting for almost seven months for this day, and it would take quite a bit of preparation to make sure everything went off without a hitch.

She packed all her most valued possessions into one of her fathers' trunks.

Phillip Lovegood sat bemusedly sipping his morning tea, watching his eccentric daughter take out one of his trunks and pack all her belongings into it. "Are you going somewhere, Luna?"

She stopped for a moment and looked dreamily at her father, "Yes Daddy, I'm coming in to work with you today." She then continued packing all her possessions.

"Do you need all of that at the office today?"

"No Daddy, but I don't want the Ministry looking at my things while I'm away."

Philip just nodded at that and went back to sipping his tea.

Half an hour later, Luna stood in front of her father, trunk filled to capacity. "Could you shrink it for me?"

He looked around the house, not only had she packed everything she owned, but she had rearranged the house to hide the fact she had ever been there. Phillip shrugged mentally and shrunk the trunk down to the size of a matchbox.

She pocketed the trunk and waited as her father took out the floo powder. "The Quibbler Office."

Moments later they were both at the Diagon Alley office of The Quibbler.

Phillip checked with his reporters via floo, and prepared to begin the next issues printing.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Luna?" He looked up.

"Don't worry about me while you're at the conference, will you?"

"Of course not. I know you can take care of yourself." He thought about what his daughter said for a moment longer. "Which conference is that?"

The floo burst to life before she could answer.

"Phillip? The Swedish Ministry is having a conference on the preservation of endangered magical creatures. It's starting in a couple of hours."

Phillip Lovegood leapt to his feet. "What's that, Horace? I'll just pack a few things and be right there."

The floo went dead as he started mentally listing the things he would need. _Change of robes for a few days, cash…huh. _His mental dialog stopped suddenly as he turned around to see his daughter wheeling out his travelling trunk from the storage room.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Luna. Are you sure you will be all right?" He quickly flipped open the trunk and found all the things he would need for the trip…including a few things that had gone missing during the Christmas break. _That long ago?_ He smiled at his daughter.

"I'll be seeing my friends soon, Daddy. You need to hurry now, or they'll start without you."

With a parting hug for his daughter, Phillip Lovegood snatched up his travelling trunk and leapt into the floo. "Swedish Ministry Conference Centre."

Luna looked at the now silent floo for a moment before starting to rearrange the furnishings in the Quibbler office.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was sitting down to a nice, quiet breakfast with his grandmother, when the morning owls arrived.

"Oh dear, Neville. The Boy Who Lived was attacked by Death Eaters again last night and is still missing." His grandmothers' stiff tone was dripping with disapproval.

"Is Harry all right?"

"The Prophet reports that all of the Death Eaters were killed in the attack, along with a muggle." She frowned, "I never did like the idea of sending young Mr. Potter to live with muggles. They just would not be able to train the boy right. How is he supposed to function in polite society if he lacks the training to do so?"

Neville just shook his head and quietly nibbled on a slice of toast.

"You are still going to go visit Frank and Alice at St. Mungoes?" Only the faintest lift of one eyebrow gave the indication that he had been asked a question, rather than simply ordered as he had been in the past.

"Yes Gran. Harry going missing doesn't change my plans. Though I think I should stop off at Mr. Olivanders' shop soon. Maybe this afternoon. I don't like the idea of being without a wand for long."

"We can get you one from the vault here. Your Great-Uncle Thompson had a similar wand to your father that you could use." She was frowning as she took a sip of tea.

"No Gran, Harry said that you never get the same results from another persons wand that you get from a wand specifically chosen for you."

The matriarch of the Longbottom family carefully hid her surprise and pleasure at her grandson's stand. "You are resolved in this then?" She glared at Neville.

"Yes Gran. I feel I could have done so much better against the Death Eaters with a wand of my own. I cannot allow myself to fail Harry again." It was taking everything he had to withstand his grandmother's displeasure.

"Very well then, Neville. A new wand it shall be. I will contact Mr. Olivander to arrange an appointment for him to see you." She smiled at Neville. _At last, he has come into his own. This is the son of Frank Longbottom Mr. Potter has been a good influence on him this past year._

Neville, more shocked at his grandmothers' sudden reversal than he would care to admit, bolted down the last of his breakfast and quickly excused himself to get ready for his visit to the hospital.

* * *

Hermione struggled down to breakfast, the pain from where she had been cut by Dolohov keeping her every movement slow and deliberate.

She chuckled quietly, watching from the kitchen doorway as her mother tried to convince the Daily Prophet's delivery owl to accept muggle money, which it was steadfastly refusing to even consider.

"Here Mum, it's after some wizarding money," she handed her mother the small purse of coins and took her seat at the table.

"Are you okay, baby. You're looking very pale." Her mother was peering into her face.

"I'll be fine once I drink these horrid things." Hermione indicated the potions set out on the breakfast table.

Helen Granger paid the owl and sent it on its way, sitting down to read the interesting paper with its moving pictures. "Isn't your friend Harry the 'Boy-Who-Lived'?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and then pulled a face at the awful taste of the healing potion she had just taken. "Yes, but he hates it when people call him that. Why? What are they saying about him now?"

"It looks like he was attacked by those Daft Easter terrorists again."

"What? Show me." She moved too suddenly as she reached for the paper her mother held, and gasped as pain rippled through her.

"Hold it right there, little lady. Finish your breakfast, and you can read the paper while you rest until lunchtime." Dan Granger placed his hands on her shoulders, settling her back into her chair. "No buts, okay?"

Hermione pouted, but soon relented, realising that the sooner breakfast ended, the sooner she got her hands on the paper. "What do they say about the Ministry's response?"

"According to this, Harry was attacked last night at dinner time by six Death Eaters," she threw her husband a sardonic grin. "I mean, really. Death Eaters. What were they thinking when they came up with that name?" Noticing her daughters growing impatience, she continued, "Six Death Eaters who were all killed during the attack along with a muggle."

"Just one? That doesn't sound what you've told us about them. What happened, did those magical policemen turn up?" Dan looked up from his Times.

"It doesn't say. What do you think, honey?" She looked at Hermione.

"It does sound rather odd. I'll tell you what I think later after I read the article myself."

"Finished your breakfast? Well here," Helen folded up the paper and handed it to her daughter. "You go rest. We'll be having an early lunch, both of us have appointments in the afternoon at the surgery."

* * *

Mundungus Fletcher returned to consciousness.

It was a real struggle, two bottles of the fiercest fire whiskey known to wizarding-kind were doing their damnedest to prevent his every movement. It was a testament to his resilience that he was even still alive, much less moving.

Stark daylight burned into his abused retinas, drawing forth from him a mangled, gurgling scream.

Half an hour later he stood in a public toilet looking into the face of failure.

The accusing look the mirror threw back at him, sadly, couldn't be hidden from.

His third great failure.

He hadn't been there to save the woman he loved.

He hadn't made it in time to save two of his best friends from a fate worse than death.

Finally, he hadn't been able to prevent the attack on and abduction of The Boy Who Lived. His charge.

It was too late for redemption. It was too late for apologies. It was too late for recriminations.

Mundungus nodded to the spectre of himself in the mirror. He would say goodbye to Frank and Alice, and then he would find some Death Eaters to kill, and hope that his friends would forgive him when he met them again in the next world.

He cleaned himself up a bit and started walking, perhaps the hangover would have started to fade by the time he got there.

* * *

Percy Weasley was already at work, had been there for hours in fact, when the reports of the previous nights events began to cross his desk. To say he was shocked would be a substantial understatement.

Fudge of course, as luck would have it, chose to arrive at the same time as Percy was reviewing a report from the Office of Underage Magic Use. Harry Potter had cast a number of spells the previous night, but the letter was undelivered. Someone had instead banished the Ministry Owl in a clear and flagrant violation of Paragraph 17 subsets 3 through 5.

"Ah, what is this Weatherby? The Potter brat again? There's no way Dumbledore can defend him this time." Fudge looked overly smug and self-satisfied. "I'll see the boy's wand snapped this time, if I have to do it personally."

Percy hid his contempt for his employer behind a mask of sycophancy. "That won't be necessary, sir." He pulled out one of the Auror reports. "Potter's wand has already been snapped, it's in the Auror reports from the scene." Percy held up am eight-inch thick pile of paperwork.

Fudge blinked a couple of times. "Oh. Well, jolly good work on the part of the Aurors. Jolly good."

"Do you want to review this, or do you want to just review the important parts?" The Junior Undersecretary, very familiar with his employers' work ethic, indicated first the fifteen-inch high pile in his inbox, and then the half dozen sheets of paper in the 'urgent' box.

Fudge shuddered at the big pile and quickly took the smaller pile. "Bring me anything that needs my personal attention after lunch, and deal with the rest." He waved dismissively.

"There's also this message, just arrived from Gringotts. They need a representative from the Ministry for some kind of ceremony."

"Ceremony? A public one?" A curious glint appeared in Cornelius' eye at the thought of extra publicity.

"No Sir, a private one."

"You take care of it then, Weatherby."

"As you wish, Sir."

Percy donned his formal robes of office, and quickly made his way to Gringotts.

* * *

**That Afternoon.**

Holly and Harry had just finished talking to Percy, and were making their way down Diagon Alley…incognito.

Swathed head to toe in dark robes; they were barely noticed by the average passers-by. The couple of Aurors posted in Diagon Alley noticed them, but as they were minding their own business, they had no reason to interfere.

"One more stop, then we can head home." Holly whispered, and then led them into Nocturn Alley.

Harry swallowed nervously, but followed her, his confidence bolstered by the feelings emanating into him from the Rings on his right hand.

The dark robes and confident bearing of the two figures kept the usual denizens of Nocturn Alley at a distance.

Holly led them down a smaller alley between a pub and some kind of apothecary, finally bringing them to a narrow door. The only marking it had was an old bronze number 8 that had fallen on it's side.

Holly rapped sharply on the door twice.

The door creaked open a crack.

"What do ye want? Can't ye leave folk to an honest living without all this harassment?"

Holly booted the door open and grabbed the speaker by the throat before he could do more than stumble back. "Hello Falco, still trading in illegal portkeys?"

"Eh-Evans? But you're dead." The haggard old man was pale with terror.

"And planning to stay that way. You understand?" She shook him to emphasise her point.

"Why are you here then? You can't be here to arrest me after all these years. It wasn't my fault." He was holding her wrist, trying to get some leverage.

Holly pushed him back into the tiny shop. "Not your fault? I lose twenty years of my life and all you can say is that it's not your fault?" She snarled.

Harry slipped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.

"The Ministry will have forgotten about you by now, unless you've been naughty…" She slammed the old man against the wall with one hand, tearing the sleeve off his left arm with her other hand.

Harry spoke up, "There's no Dark Mark."

"Clever you, staying off the Dark Lord's team."

"I just want to live quietly." The old man was weeping now, shock and pain nearly overwhelming him.

"This is the deal, Falco. You supply me with portkeys, and the Ministry never remembers what they wanted you for."

"I don't want to be in this war. I just want quiet."

Holly gently caressed the old mans cheek, "You'll get your peace and quiet, I just need a return portkey to northern Italy…" She trailed off as a golden glint up on a shelf caught her eye. She dropped the old man in a chair and walked over to the shelf, taking the object into her hands.

"No, don't…" The old man sagged.

"Oh yes. You old devil, you. You did it again. I think I'd better take this one." She looked down at the old man. "How long?"

"It is the last. I will never make another. It is good for a week." He stood up, slowly hobbling over to a section of wall.

At his touch the wall faded to reveal a series of shelves filled with the most eclectic assortment of items Harry had ever seen. The old man selected a small statue of a man with a winged helm and sandals clutching a staff. "Here, it will take you to Verona. The return trip will place you at the outskirts of Hogsmeade." He snatched the golden object from her hands, replacing it with the statue.

Holly looked at the statue, "Mercury. Nice."

He clutched the golden object to his chest. "Why do you come to me? Why would you take the last of my children from me?"

She peered into the old mans eyes for a long moment, "Harry, lower your hood."

The old man looked at Harry for the first time, eyes going wide as he saw the scar. "You! This is for you?" He looked from Harry to Holly and back again.

"Yes. Voldemort will never cease hunting me while I am here. I need time away from here to train." Harry stared into the eyes of the old man, the truth shining out from him."I need more time."

The old man slumped. He slowly passed to Harry the golden object.

Harry looked upon the most intricate device he had ever seen. It was a Time-Turner, but so intricate and extravagant in design that it made the one Hermione had in third year look like a toy.

The old man looked up at Holly, tears pouring from his eyes. "My debt is paid, woman. I owe you nothing more. Leave me be."

She nodded. "Very well, Falco, it is done. Nothing more lies between us. Come Harry, we must leave." She took his right hand as Harry activated the Potter Signet's portkey.

* * *

Harry and Holly arrived at Gryffindor Manor to find the place far from habitable.

Dust-encrusted sheets covered unidentifiable furnishings and wall decorations, and was thick enough on the floor that their arrival had kicked up a substantial cloud despite them not having taken a step yet.

"Well that's not really what I was expecting." Holly looked very dissatisfied.

"And I thought it took a while to clean Sirius' place…where's a house elf when you need…him." Harry grumbled, his voice slowing as the realisation of what he was saying caught up with him.

"What's that, Harry?" Holly looked at him sharply.

Harry concentrated for a moment, and then spoke firmly and authoritatively, "Dobby!"

_POP._

"Master Harry called…" Dobby broke down into a fit of coughing as the cloud of dust thrown up by his arrival quickly engulfed him.

Harry quickly grabbed Dobby by the arm and hauled him out of the dust cloud. Dobby coughed a few more times.

Looking piteously up at Harry, Dobby grinned nervously, "Sorry Harry Potter Sir…"

"Don't worry, Dobby. I'm very happy to see you, thank you for coming so quickly." Harry quickly pre-empted the excitable house elf.

"The Great Harry Potter is Thanking Dobby?" Dobby's eyes grew even rounder than normal and looked like tears were about to pour out of them.

Harry interrupted the elf again, "I was wondering if you would like to come and work for me, Dobby?"

Dobby blinked in shock for a couple of seconds, "The Great Harry Potter wants Dobby to work for him?"

Harry lowered Dobby to the ground carefully to avoid another dust cloud, "Yes Dobby. This is my new home, my family's home. Just look at it. The place hasn't had anyone looking after it since my grandparents time."

Dobby was ecstatic, "Dobby can take care of Master Harry Potter's Home."

"That's great Dobby. Do you think there is enough work here for Winky to come as well?"

Dobby froze, looking up into Harry's eyes, "You would accept Winky as well?"

"Would you bring her here so I can ask her as well?"

Dobby nodded his head frenetically, and vanished.

"What was all of that about, Harry?" Holly had stepped back through the whole episode, just watching Harry handle the emotionally unstable House Elf.

"I told you about freeing the Malfoy family House Elf during my second year, didn't I?"

Holly nodded.

"Well that was Dobby."

"What's with all the hats?"

"The hats are Hermione's fault. I explained about spew, or S.P.E.W. as she named it."

"Who is Winky?"

"Barty Crouch Junior's house elf. Fourth year, and the reason for the creation of spew."

Holly blinked a couple of times. "You really have a thing about claiming the spoils of your war with the Death Eaters, don't you?"

Now it was Harry's turn to blink in confusion. "Huh?"

_POP! Pop!_

Any further conversation was interrupted by Dobby's return. With him was the wretched creature that was Winky, in a filthy dress, still hugging a near empty bottle of butter beer.

"Thank you, Dobby." Harry knelt down in front of the two elves. "Hello Winky." His voice was compassionate and reassuring.

Winky nearly broke down crying at the kindness in Harry's voice.

"Winky? I would like you to work for me, for my family, here in my family home." Harry spoke quietly, soothingly.

Winky just stared in shock at Harry, then turned to Dobby for confirmation. Dobby nodded happily.

Harry reached out and carefully removed the bottle from Winky's grasp. "You will have to wear uniforms, and keep them clean and tidy, and you are not allowed to drink on the job."

"U…u…uniform?" Winky managed to squeak out eventually.

"Yes, a uniform. I am a powerful Lord now, and all my servants must make a good impression on visitors. I will supply you with the uniforms you are to wear while you work for my family."

Dobby spoke quietly, and very seriously, suddenly, "You will bond Dobby and Winky to your house, Master Harry Potter Sir?"

"Yes Dobby, but I have one final condition. You will both accept a wage for your work. One Galleon per month, each." Harry had a peculiar smirk on his face as he looked past the two shocked house elves to his aunt.

"No, no, no. Winky cannot be accepting Master Harry's money, not for work, no…" Winky was shaking her head.

"Master Harry Potter Sir, Dobby doesn't need to be paid, Dobby wants to work for a great and noble wizard like Master Harry Potter…"

"Hmmm…two Galleons a month?"

Both house elves looked at Harry like he was mad.

"No? Three Galleons a month then."

Dobby's jaw dropped, and tears began to flow down his face. Winky was just whimpering, "No, no, no, no…"

"I'll have to make it four Galleons a month. I wouldn't want people to think I was mistreating my house elves. No, only the best for Potter family house elves."

Realising Harry was going to keep adding more to their pay until they accepted it, Dobby jumped forward and took Harry's hand. "Dobby and Winky accepts, Master Harry Sir, but we only wants one Galleon each month, we can share it."

Harry smiled, "One Galleon each it is then. We will bond as soon as I find out how to do it. There should be something about it in the Potter library."

Dobby looked like he wanted to argue the amount down again, but was distracted by the imminence of bonding to Harry. "Dobby knows how it is done, Dobby remembers."

"Excellent Dobby. What do I have to do?"

"Master Harry Potter Sir must touch Dobby with his wand and speak the words _obtempero meus prosapia Ego redimio vos_. I accept this by saying _Ego servo_." Dobby spoke slowly to make sure he got the difficult pronunciation correct.

Harry looked worriedly at Holly. "What do I do about the detection charms on my wand? I can't let the Ministry detect me now." Harry held up his wand, waggling it uselessly.

Dobby reached forward and a burst of rich blue light shot from his hand to the wand, causing it to glow for a few moments. "Nasty charms is gone now, Master Harry Potter. Ministry cannot watch Master Harry Potter Sir now."

Holly was downright shocked by what she had just witnessed. She had never been aware that house elves could so easily circumvent wizard magic.

Harry grinned at his aunt's shocked expression for a moment, before turning back to the two house elves. He touched his wand to Dobby's forehead, "_obtempero meus prosapia Ego redimio vos_."

Dobby replied, "_Ego servo_."

A powerful pulse of magic rippled out from them, washing over Winky and slamming Holly back into the wall behind her.

Dobby stood up, his eyes fairly glowing with power. "Thank you, Master Harry. I am honoured to serve."

Winky was staring at Dobby's upright posture and the faint resonance of power in Dobby's voice.

"I am honoured you chose to serve me, Dobby." Harry turned to Winky, "Are you ready, Winky? _obtempero meus prosapia Ego redimio vos_"

"_Ego servo._"

Holly was just hauling herself back to her feet when Winky nodded and Harry touched his wand to the elf's forehead. The pulse of magic caught her off balance again, slamming her once more into the wall.

Winky, eyes wide in awe, spoke in a voice as resonant with power as Dobby's had been. "Thank you for your Trust, Master Harry. What do you wish of us now?"

Harry nodded, "Thank you both for trusting me." He looked around. "Could you make this place liveable? Starting with a couple of bedrooms, and then the main living areas. Kitchen, dining, lounge, and a couple of bathrooms. Oh, and see if you can locate where the floo access is."

Both house elves spoke in unison, "It will be done, Master Harry." _Pop. Pop._

After watching the two elves vanish, Harry finally noticed his Aunt collapsed in a pile next to the wall. He rushed over to help her to her feet, "Aunt Holly, are you all right? What happened to you?"

She stared at him like he was insane for a moment, "What happened? I'll tell you what happened." She growled, "The next best thing to a bloody Archmage decides to let rip with the full force of his magic at me…TWICE! What the hell were you doing?"

"Archmage? Wha?" Harry shook his head, dismissing the irrelevant statements. "I was bonding two house elves to my service. It will mean we can trust them not to go reporting to Bumbledore."

Holly rubbed the back of her head where she had hit the wall, "You do realise that even the most extravagantly wealthy families rarely have more than one house elf, don't you?"

"Nope. I'm largely clueless about that sort of thing." He grinned cheekily at her.

_Pop._

"Yes Dobby?" Harry glanced down at the elf.

"I have located the floo in the entrance hall. However the security charms on it can only be released by the Master of the House." Dobby glanced curiously at Holly for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"Thank you Dobby. Umm." He flushed red, "Dobby, this is my Aunt, Holly Evans. She is a witch, and will be living with us here."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Holly. It is good that you have rescued Master Harry from the horrible Muggles." Dobby bowed and vanished with a _Pop._

Holly nodded to Dobby and watched Harry's face as the house elf took its leave.

"Sorry, forgot to introduce you."

"That's okay Harry. Now lets go find that floo connection."

* * *

Twenty minutes later found nephew and aunt kneeling together in front of an ornate fireplace of substantial size. Green flames flickered merrily as Harry laboured to pronounce the extremely complex security charms, and bring them under his control.

None of which was helped in the least by the helpful advice being provided by the painting in the main hall opposite the floo. It was indeed a beautiful painting, in the background stood a partially constructed Hogwarts, surrounded by forests in springtime. It was the subject matter of the foreground that was annoying Harry. It was Angrod Hufflepuff again, this time seated at a worktable, but still naked, his complete lack of modesty only preserved by a strategically positioned vase.

"So the Master of no less than Three Great Houses cannot operate a simple security charm. Seize the day, boy. Wrest control of the damn thing. Willpower is everything here." Angrod's deep masculine voice cut through the silence.

Harry was actually growling under his breath.

The flames suddenly lost the emerald hue, reverting to the cheery orangey colour.

"You did it!" Holly hugged Harry proudly.

"Well done, lad. I knew you had it in you." The painting spoke knowingly.

Harry just basked his aunt's approval.

She stood up, releasing Harry, and grabbed a handful of floo powder. "Dominic Mayfair, Doctor Surgery." She threw the handful of powder into the flames, turning them green once more.

Moments later a female face appeared in the fire.

"Healer Mayfair's clinic, how may we help you?"

"Could you tell _Doctor_ Mayfair that an old client of his wishes to speak to him personally." Holly spoke calmly.

"Sorry, Healer Mayfair is busy with a patient right now…" The woman in the floo stated haughtily, only to be interrupted by Holly.

"I don't care if he has the bloody Minister of bloody Magic in there. Tell him to pull his pants back up and get his sleazy little arse out here, or I'm coming down there to tear his ballocks off." Holly smiled sweetly, "Do you understand me, honey? If I have to come down there I'll be using his scrotum as a Hacky-Sack."

The young woman stared back at Holly in shock for a moment, before pulling away from the flames.

Harry was sniggering.

A new face appeared, stern and unyielding. "What is the meaning of these threats? I've a mind to report your abuse to the Auro…" The face suddenly broke into a huge sloppy grin, "Holly? Holly Evans?"

"Hey Doc, how're the muggles treating you?" Holly had lost the frown, and was grinning as well.

"Damn girl, they told me you were dead." The healers voice rich with good humour and not a little relief.

"They keep trying…but you know me."

"Yeah, I do know you. What's the crisis?" His left eyebrow was raised.

"What makes you think it's a crisis?"

"Oh, Please. Holly Evans calls me after being dead for twenty years, it sure isn't to pay back the bottle of Ogden's she owes me."

"Fine. My nephew needs a checkup and some serious therapy to recover from almost fifteen years of abuse and malnutrition." She snorts derisively, "And I think I could use a once over myself."

The handsome black doctor chuckled, "Sure Evans, I'll grab my doctors bag and a pair of pants, and be right there."

"I'll keep the floo open, the security here is something to be feared."

The doctor disappeared for a few minutes, and returned. "Okay back off, my incredibly tight black arse is coming through."

Holly stepped back to join Harry who had moved away at the beginning of the floo call.

The flames roared up as the tall black man stepped through into the entry hall, battered old medicine bag in one hand and golf bag over the other shoulder. He dropped both as he swept Holly up into a bone-cracking hug. "Damn, you are alive. In the flesh even."

"Of course I am."

He grinned holding up a small device that was spinning slowly and quietly in his hand.

"That's a very nice Sneak-o-scope, Doc."

"Good for polyjuice as well," He put her down and looked around the hall. "Nice pad, a little dusty, a little more upmarket than you're used to…Hello." His visual scan of the room finally arriving at Harry. "I'm Doctor Dominic Mayfair, or Healer Mayfair if you prefer." He held out a rather oversized hand.

Harry looked into the man's eyes for a few moments, before accepting the handshake, "Harry Potter."

The Doctor's eyes flew open, and he turned back to Holly. "Your nephew? Or did you just kidnap him?"

"I'm shocked you could think such horrible things of me, Doc." Holly looked genuinely aggrieved.

"Cut the shit Evans." He knelt down in front of Harry, "The whole bloody world is looking for you, you know, Mr. Potter."

"Just Harry is fine Doctor Mayfair. And she is my Aunt, she rescued me from the Death Eaters yesterday." Harry was staring into the doctor's eyes, willing him to see the truth.

"As you say." He gave Harry a quick scan. "I can see what you meant, he is far from healthy for a fourteen year old, much less someone verging on sixteen."

Holly nodded, "His muggle guardians were not the most caring of creatures."

"Well lead on, we can hardly perform an examination here." He slung his golf bag over his shoulder, and picked up the other bag, following the other two out of the room.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Harry was resting quietly in the newly cleaned bedroom that the house elves had readied for him. The examinations had been quite exhaustive and exhausting, but had been well worth it.

"Well Doc?" Holly was in the process of preparing herself for battle, donning dragonhide combat robes, and strapping on weapons and kit.

He stood blinking at her, "So which third-world nation are we invading today?"

"Afghanistan, apparently." She grinned for a moment, then turned serious, "About Harry?"

"Right. Harry." He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe beside him. "The malnutrition is easy, and can be taken care of with a few potions and muggle nutritional and hormonal supplements. His eyesight had deteriorated because of those glasses and their out of date prescription. A course of potions will restore it somewhat, but you'll need to take him to an optometrist, I can recommend an excellent muggle one if you like. The muscle atrophy can be dealt with simply via a good diet and regular exercise." He looked at her carefully, "Are you going to train him?"

She finished strapping on a wand holster, and slipped the stolen wand into it, "Yes. If he's going to keep getting attacked by Death Eaters and the snake guy, I want him to be able to cope."

"Good." He watched as she finished doing up the fastenings on her robes, "Want me to stick around until you get back?"

"If you don't mind." She pulled the cowl up to cover her head and face, "I'll be bringing in a few extras…one of them was apparently hit by a flame cutter curse only a short time ago, can you handle the ongoing treatment for that?"

"Of course."

"Dobby?"

_Pop._ "Yes Mistress Holly."

"This is Healer Mayfair, Dobby. He's here to help Harry, get him anything he needs."

"Of course, Mistress." _Pop._ He vanished after a brief glance at the black doctor.

"House elf? Mansion. You really landed on your feet this time, beautiful." He put on a seductive grin and wrapped his arm around her waist as she passed him.

"Now now, what would Snake say about that?" She slapped his hand playfully.

He suddenly sobered, "Have you told him you're back? Last I saw him, he was a wreck."

Her expression was unreadable, hidden within the darkness of her cowl. She swept past him and down to the floo. By the time the large doctor had caught up with her, she was gone, the flames already receding.

* * *

Author Note:

Damn…that chapter went well, kind of.

I had actually planned to have the entire next chapter be in this chapter as well…until I noticed the word count on this chapter. Ah well…all the excitement happens soon…


	6. Chapter 6

Goddess bless Geena Davis, for being a tall redhead. Goddess bless Hollywood for their wonderful movie, which inspired this fic, and after which I named it. And finally, Goddess bless Madam Rowling, for the world she created.

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

Author Note: A brief reply to some of the reviews I have received lately.

The odd splashes of humour are a side effect of the author being Australian. As a nation we have the ability to find the humour in **anything**. As for the Death Eaters cracking jokes…we are talking about the kind of people who get their jollies from casting the Cruciatus on innocent muggles and children…

Who is Snake? Well some folks have figured that out. He will be important later.

I am planning pairings, and they will be fairly conventional. I am hoping to bring my own interpretation to it though. There will not, repeat **not**, be any slash in this story. The pairings, however, will not be the focus of the story; so don't expect entire chapters devoted to them.

Angrod Hufflepuff will be turning up everywhere in various states of undress. As Helga said "I could hardly let a magnificent specimen like this go unrecorded," and she was a rather prolific artist.

Harry did not empty the Black Vault, he shifted half it's monetary contents up to the Gryffindor Vault. Why? There are no "infinite moneybags" or "Gringotts Credit Cards" in this story. You want money; you go to your vault. The Gryffindor Vault is a short walk from the main floor, whereas the Black and Potter vaults require a cart ride.

Wordcount? Hell, I failed English in high school. My average essay back then was half a page, and that was with effort. So suddenly discovering I had written over nine pages…

I haven't forgotten 'Forgotten Shards', nor have I had any new inspiration on it…ah well…

On with the story:

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Long Kiss Goodnight**

**Chapter Six.**

* * *

Hermione Granger looked over the shopping list in her hand again as she slowly pushed the trolley down the confectionary aisle. She was taking it nice and slow. From the moment she heard about Harry's disappearance, she had been having difficulty concentrating on reading, her mind kept flashing through possible scenarios that Harry could have gotten himself into this time, so she was doing a little shopping for her parents to get her mind off it for a while.

"Hmmm…" For the umpteenth time she touched the grip of her wand, she had made a makeshift wand holster on her left arm, hidden by the sleeve of her raincoat. "What is it with Americans and snack foods containing peanut butter?" She pulled a face.

* * *

Four blocks from the Leaky Cauldron, a rather intense woman was calmly listening to the voice at the other end of Directory Assistance.

"Good afternoon, my name is Tammy, how may I be of assistance?"

"I'm looking for a dentist, Dr Granger."

"Granger and Granger, Dental Surgeons?"

"That sounds right. Thank you."

The woman quickly scribbled down the address and hung up. Slipping an invisibility cloak over herself, she apparated to the general vicinity of the address.

Standing atop the tallest building in the area, she drew her wand, "_Point me_ Hermione Granger." Her wand dragged her to the left, orienting on a huge building in the distance. Pausing a moment to select another site, she apparated once more. "_Point me_ Hermione Granger." The wand once again dragged her around to point at the massive building.

"Got you…"

* * *

Hermione Granger was carefully placing a couple of cans of soup into her trolley when the distinctive _crack_ of a nearby apparation, coinciding with the appearance of a dark robed person at the far end of the aisle she was in, shot a blast of adrenalin through her system.

Hermione was already drawing her wand when the cowled figure turned towards her, it's wand in hand.

With her now freed arm she swung her shopping trolley around to knock over, and provide cover for, the pregnant woman standing on the other side of the aisle.

She didn't even wait to get her opponent lined up for an aimed spell. "_REDUCTO!_" Before the spell had covered even half the distance, she shouted a second time, "_REDUCTO!_"

Hermione could see her opponent hurling off a number of reddish spells. _They want to take me alive._ She screamed her defiance a third time, this time aiming directly at her opponent. "_REDUCTO!_"

She attempted to dodge the incoming spells, but found herself unable to move. She didn't see much of what happened next, there was a sudden flash, a lot of noise, and then everything went black.

* * *

**A few minutes earlier.**

Holly apparated to the main entrance to the large supermarket, still concealed under Harry's invisibility cloak, and whispered, "_Point me_ Hermione Granger." Her stolen wand pointed straight ahead, into the market.

Holly slipped through the doors with a couple of muggles, and started zeroing in on the girl, quickly locating her in the canned goods aisle. Holly looked around, barely a half dozen muggles present had a line of sight, and most of them were facing away.

She walked back to an empty aisle, took off the invisibility cloak, shrinking it and tucking it in a pocket. "Ready. Three, two, one." She took a deep breath, held her wand steady, and apparated into the aisle that still contained Hermione.

A pregnant muggle had entered the aisle near the girl since Holly had last looked, and Holly was pleased to see Hermione knock the woman out of the line of fire.

Holly was also a little surprised at the bushy-haired girl's reaction time. _Adrenalin? Oh shit!_ Surprise turned to outright shock as Hermione opened up with an explosion curse. _Poorly executed, she should have waited for a better shot._ The older woman started returning fire with a wide spread of stunners.

Before the first spell had covered even half the distance, Holly was slightly impressed to see her opponent cast again, but was displeased to note that it too would fly far wide of the mark. _She doesn't wait to see if her first spell was effective, but isn't taking the time to aim. She's just flailing around wildly._

As Holly's own spells were about to impact the girl, Hermione finally aimed another explosion curse directly at her.

Then the whole world went to hell, as the first reducto struck the shelving to Holly's left, ripping it asunder, and rendering a couple of hundred cans of various seafood into a misty fishy shrapnel that tore through Holly's defences. An instant later, the second explosion spell struck the shelving to her right, splattering Holly with a green and gold wave of exploded peas and corn.

It took all her training and slowly returning instincts to avoid the third spell as it struck the ground where she had been standing an instant before, sending concrete shrapnel ripping through everything in sight…particularly one Holly Evans, who stood at ground zero.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Holly Evans staggered down the aisle to where the unconscious girl lay. _What in Merlin's name was that? Harry told me she was smart. I made a rookie error and totally underestimated her. She aimed all three spells. Damn. _

Holly ignored her own pain, picked up the unconscious girl, and slung her over her shoulder. Turning back to the aisle she waved her wand, "_Evanesco Vitae_." She then stomped on the girl's fallen wand snapping it, before activating the portkey she and Harry had made earlier, vanishing without trace.

* * *

Deep inside the Ministry of Magic, Mafalda Hopkirk was thoroughly enjoying a nice roast beef sandwich, rare with an excellent horseradish sauce, when an alarm started buzzing.

Placing the sandwich aside, with a sigh of disappointment, she moved to investigate. _Hermione Granger. How odd._

She activated the linked magicks and watched as the quill wrote out a fairly standard warning message…until it reached the part containing what spells had been cast and where.

_Three Reducto's, and in a muggle supermarket. The silly girl should surely know about the secrecy act. It is behaviour like this that causes us far too much trouble. I suspect we shall need plenty of Obliviators for this._

Mafalda quickly folded up the message and handed it to the waiting owl, before racing out of her office.

* * *

"SENIOR AUROR SHACKLEBOLT!"

The tired Auror looked up from the pile of incomplete paperwork on his desk, surprised to be hearing running feet and his name being shouted by the normally imperturbable chief of the Improper Use of Magic Office. "What's the matter, Hopkirk?"

"I just had the Granger girl casting explosion curses in a muggle supermarket." She managed despite being out of breath.

"Shit."

"Eloquent as always, Shacklebolt," Nymphadora Tonks sniped from the doorway. "I know the supermarket you'd be referring to. How long ago did it happen?"

"No less than five minutes ago, I had to wait for the full parchment to be written out before I could take it. Explosion curses in front of muggles! In a muggle food store no less! I shudder to think of the paperwork for this. Isn't she in a relationship with The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

Kingsley threw Tonks a look, which (he thanked the heavens) she correctly interpreted, seeing as she took Mafalda and her wailing away from his office.

Silence restored, Kingsley started mobilising Aurors to secure the situation at the supermarket._ She's a friend of Potter's, with him attacked last night, this can't be a good thing, and she wouldn't dare cast a spell in public if she wasn't being attacked!_ _Obliviators, don't forget the Obliviators_. "**Peasegood?** Get your skinny arse down here, **NOW**!"

* * *

Holly and Hermione reappeared in the entrance hall of Gryffindor Manor, where Dominic Mayfair found the two of them a couple of minutes later. "Damnit Holly. DOBBY?"

_Pop._ "Yes Healer Mayfair?"

The black doctor nearly jumped out of his skin when the house elf spoke up from practically underneath him. "Could…um. Could you move the girl up to another room, I'll be up to help her in a minute."

He watched as the elf levitated Hermione out of the room, before he turned to deal with his recalcitrant friend. "What the hell did you do to that child?" He smirked as he looked her over, "And what did she do to you? Is that corn?"

"_Scourgify_. Yes it bloody well was corn. She didn't even wait to see if I was hostile, she threw an explosion curse at the packed supermarket shelves beside me." She wiped a fake tear from her eye and sniffed, "I'm so proud."

"Here, sit, you need some medical attention as well. Well, you never did like the long and less painful way, a 'waste of time' you called it." He placed a folding stool under her, which she gratefully sank onto. "_Accio _Shrapnel," Mayfair began waving his wand and dozens of tiny shards of metal pulled out of her flesh and floated over to a metal tray as Holly winced from the feeling of the shards being ripped out from her flesh. "Canned goods aisle, huh? She really did a number on you."

"Wait 'til you see my legs, her third reducto hit the floor at my feet. Boom: rock shards everywhere. She has a great future as a Hit Witch ahead of her…if I can drag her away from pure research." She sighed, this time for real. "I almost didn't get her Doc. I made a trainee Auror mistake, underestimating the opponent."

"Well, the others shouldn't be as hard." It took Dominic a little more than five minutes to heal Holly. "You're going after the next one now? I'll be upstairs at least a half hour."

Holly nodded, "The Lovegood girl. She's a Ravenclaw and a year behind Harry."

"Lovegood? The girl's a nutter, you know."

"That nutter was one of the six children who fought the Dark Lord's Inner Circle of Death Eaters to a stand still. Granger got that point through to me, do not underestimate them."

"Good luck then." He walked out of the room shaking his head.

"The Quibbler Office." The floo roared up, and she was gone.

* * *

Holly instinctively ducked the red blast of a stunning spell as she rolled to her feet. Adrenalin flooded through her as she leapt out of the way of the spells being cast at her from what appeared to be the Editor's office.

A clear and rather sweet voice called out, "Are you still there?"

Holly looked around the Quibbler offices; the furnishings had been rearranged so as to provide no cover out here. Her quick glance into the Editor's office had revealed what appeared to be a fort, from the protection of which Luna was lobbing spells any time Holly showed herself. _Nice, very nice, but how did she know I was coming?_

Holly attempted to move silently up to the edge of the doorway, but her feet made faint crunching sounds as she neared it.

"Damn. Good defences, Lovegood." Holly said quietly, and then leaped across the doorway, hurling three spells in that short time before she was in cover on the other side. The first blasted a hole in the heavy wooden desk, the second sliced the table in half and the third, a powerful stunner, bounced off a shield and very nearly hit her as she twisted out of the way, landing heavily and rolling smoothly to her feet.

"Hermione showed us that one." The blonde girl said as she began to launch her own barrage of spells out of the office. No less than three _Avis_ spells later and the offices were a swarm of fluttering, screeching birds that seemed to conspire to block her from getting a clear shot into the editors office.

Holly raised a powerful shield, it's glowing blue dome causing each bird that flew into it to vanish with a small puff of blue smoke. _Nice Lovegood, I can't aim and you can fire out at will_. Holly paused and considered not just her options but also the time taken so far. "Now why did I think any friends of Harry's would be normal?" She muttered to herself quietly.

Taking a breath, Holly dispersed her shield and gracefully spun around the bludgeoning curse that flew out of the office, before she dropped to one knee and launched a trio of stunners off as fast as she could before rolling out of the Lovegood girl's line of fire once more. As no spells were forthcoming, she quickly glanced into the room to see a very unconscious Luna Lovegood lying amidst the ruins of the office.

_Merlin's Codpiece! She's only a fourth year, how does she know a seventh year bludgeoning curse? _Calmly she crouched to check on the girl's pulse when the hair on the back of her neck suddenly rose up. Twisting violently, she threw herself to the side, her arm passing through what she now saw as an illusion as the same sweet voice happily called out to her.

"_Diffindo!_"

Holly felt the cutting curse slice the edge of her neck. If she had been a fraction of a second too slow, it could well have been a lethal curse. Instinctively she lashed out with a bludgeoning curse at the direction the voice came from. As she rolled to her feet she saw, a now unconscious, Luna Lovegood slumping to the ground from the bludgeoning curse that had caught her on the side of the head.

"Ok, either I've gotten far too soft or these kids are better than I thought. _Evanesco Vitae_." Sighing to herself she took a brief moment to look around the thoroughly destroyed offices before she picked up the girl's wand and thoughtfully snapped it, dropping it in a wastepaper basket. Satisfied she touched the girl with her portkey and they both vanished with a muttered word.

* * *

Holly carried the unconscious form of Luna Lovegood upstairs to the spare room that was currently set up as a small hospital.

"I thought this was supposed to be the easiest one," Dom was carefully administering a potion into a muggle saline drip, feeding into Hermione's left arm.

"Harry seems to have failed to mention that Miss Lovegood here is a seer of some sort. She had the Quibbler Office set up like a fort, she was waiting for me." Holly shook her head and carefully lowered the child onto one of the beds.

"What did you hit her with?" He began examining the blonde girl.

"Bludgeoning curse, to the head I think."

"You think?"

"I was too busy dodging the cutting curse she aimed at my neck." Holly shrugged off the dragonhide robe, revealing both the cut to her neck and the resulting blood-soaked shirt.

"Damnit Holly." He took her arm and dragged her over to a nearby bed. "Sit, the girls will be fine. Its only a minor concussion, and a couple of potions will fix it. You on the other hand."

"Gimmie a quick fix, I don't have much time."

He shook his head, and dug a couple of potions out of his golf bag. "Here, I should have given you one of these after the shrapnel. Restricted potions, from a 'mate' in Australia. Most governments won't approve them because of the…"

She had unstoppered and swallowed both potions while he talked. He was interrupted when she fell back on the bed screaming in pain, curling up into a foetal ball. A minute and a half later, she uncoiled with a gasp, and had moved three quarters of the way across the room, grabbed the doctor by the throat and slammed him into the wall before he could blink. "You were going to say something about why they were restricted, yes?" She snarled, her green eyes blazing with rage.

He swallowed, "Because of the Cruciatus-like level of pain…" his voice trailed off suddenly as her knee impacted with his groin.

"Beforehand. Always warn me beforehand." She dropped him, returning to where her robes were. "Do you have more?"

"Yes."

"Good, I may need them after this one as well. The Weasley children are likely to be together." She donned her robes once again. "Is Harry awake? No, he would be here by now if he was." She moved to leave the room, pausing at the door, "Thanks Doc, I appreciate this."

Still slumped on the floor where she had dropped him, he groaned and waved weakly, "Don't mention it."

* * *

Harry woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Used to such awakenings, he feigned sleep and took stock of his surroundings. It was comfortable and it was quiet, but it smelled pleasant so it wasn't the hospital wing at Hogwarts…

"Rise and shine Harry, you can't sleep through an enervate." The pleasant voice of his aunt brought back everything that had happened in a rush.

"Aunt Holly." He sat up and looked into her brilliant green eyes. "What is happening?"

"I need to find the Weasley children. Where would they be?"

"Probably at the Burrow. Mr Weasley will be at the Ministry, and Mrs. Weasley will probably be at the Order headquarters. Percy will be at the Ministry. Bill and Charlie won't be home. The twins might be home though."

"The Burrow, huh? Arthur loved that old place."

"Did you know them?"

"I went to Hogwarts with Molly and Arthur. Amongst others, I'll talk more later, Hermione and Luna are next door. The Doc is checking them out."

"I know he's a friend of yours and all, but he has some pretty funny ideas about medicine." Harry scowled.

"Pain, taste, or his bedside manner?" Holly scowled as well.

"All three." Both said simultaneously, grinning.

"Right, see you later."

Harry smiled, and nodded; before slipping back into the most restful sleep he had ever known in his life.

* * *

Holly stood before the fireplace in the entrance hall of Gryffindor Manor. She took a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames. The fire flashed green for a few moments, while she waved her wand at it and muttered a few very complex charms.

"Arthur, you sentimental old bastard. You didn't take me off the access list." She shook her head, and took another handful of floo powder. Wand in hand, cowl pulled up to cover her face, she threw the powder into the flames saying quite clearly, "The Burrow."

* * *

Ron and Ginny had spent a profitable morning practicing quidditch. Both his skill at Keeper and hers as a Chaser were improving. Eventually the noise coming from Ron's stomach overwhelmed their enthusiasm for the sport, and they went in for lunch.

While they were eating they heard the floo in the lounge room activate. Ginny went to look while Ron stuffed another sandwich into his mouth.

"Ginny love, are you all right?" The fiery image of the Weasley patriarch looked worried. "Is Ron there?"

"RON!" Ginny called out. "Yes Dad, we're both here and fine. Why?"

Ron walked in, a sandwich in hand. "Hi Dad."

"According to the Auror's, Hermione has been attacked and kidnapped by someone in dark robes. In broad daylight in a muggle soup market no less."

Both younger Weasleys just looked at their father in shock.

"Someone attacked Hermione?"

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you later when I get home, just stay inside, please. The Orchard is too unprotected and isolated."

Both teens nodded.

"We will Dad." Ginny said.

"I'll stop by this evening and we'll go to headquarters to meet up with your mother." Arthur smiled at his children, and cut the connection.

Ron sat down heavily, "Harry and Hermione. Damn."

Ginny sat opposite him grinning evilly at him.

He noticed the grin, his eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"You do realise that you're next, don't you?" Her big toothy grin almost putting a Goblin's grin to shame.

He blinked a couple of times. "You're right." He took his wand out of his pocket, brandishing it seriously, "But they won't get me without a fight."

Ginny shook her head at him, "What about underage magic?"

"They've never needed to send me a letter before. All I'll get is a warning."

* * *

Police had taped off the supermarket. Only two men currently stood inside.

"So, Shacklebolt, what have we here?" The cowled Unspeakable stood at the entrance to the aisle where the action had taken place.

"According to the muggle surveillance equipment, Miss Granger was here doing some shopping." He began moving into the aisle, reinacting her movements. "When a robed figure appeared down that end."

"I see. Why is there no spell damage up this end if there was a spell battle?"

"The muggle surveillance recorded that the dark figure only fired stunners, while Granger was casting exploding curses." The large black Auror moved to several points at their end of the aisle. "Here are the impact points from the stunners that missed. They definitely took her alive."

They both walked down the aisle to the edge of the destruction wrought by Hermione's spells.

"Is this going to be left like this?" There was a hint of curiosity in the Unspeakable's voice.

"Yes, the cover story being used by the Obliviators is that a muggle terrorist set off an explosive device here. There is nothing more we can do here."

The Unspeakable wandered back up the aisle to where Hermione had fallen. After looking around for a moment, he knelt down and picked up something from the ground, bringing it to his nose. "Unicorn hair. I take it her wand was snapped as well?"

Kingsley nodded, "Disarming them, and leaving us without a link to their magical cores. We cannot track the location they are being kept at."

"Do you think that this is linked to the Potter attack last night?"

Kingsley paused, "Officially or unofficially?"

The Unspeakable turned away from the senior Auror, seeming very interested in the exploded shelves, "Off the record."

"Definitely. This is probably revenge for the deaths of the Death Eaters who were captured in the Department of Secrets last month."

"Then perhaps you should be looking into the current location of the other four youths…" The Unspeakable trailed off as he saw realisation seep into Kingsley's rapidly paling face.

"Shit."

"Very eloquently put, Senior Auror Shacklebolt." The Unspeakable chuckled, "Perhaps you are needed elsewhere now."

The large Auror apparated away immediately.

* * *

Ron looked over at his sister, "Do you have your wand handy? Or are you planning to sit back and watch while I get kidnapped?"

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's upstairs."

"Well go get it. Constant Vigilance, as Barty Crouch Junior liked to say."

"Fine, I'll go and get my wand. But if I get an owl from the Ministry, I'm blaming you." She bounced out of the room.

Ron sat down on the couch, and started reading the large tome of Quidditch regulations while he waited for his sister to return.

Ginny collected her wand from her bedside table, paused for a drink in the kitchen, and returned to the lounge room.

Just in time for the floo to activate and a dark cowled figure to leap out, wand in hand.

Ron threw his book at the figure and leapt over the back of the couch he had been sitting on. Ginny hurled herself out of the doorway and behind the couch, almost colliding with Ron.

They both flinched as spells started hammering the couch and wall above them.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other for a moment, resolve forming in their eyes. A quick nod to each other and they both took a breath.

Ron began casting protective spells and wards on the couch, reinforcing it and ensuring their cover would hold up to heavy abuse.

Ginny, on the other hand, began opening fire on the stranger, starting with a few basic nuisance spells before hammering her opponent with some of the nastier stuff Harry had taught her.

* * *

Holly leaped out of the floo into the lounge room of the Burrow; it hadn't changed much in twenty years. As she rolled to her feet, she saw a girl who could only be Molly's daughter leap behind one of the large couches. A large book almost hitting her from the side brought a young redheaded man disappearing behind the other end of the couch to her attention. She smiled. _Good instincts on these two._

She opened up on them, hurling spell after spell into their general direction. Seeing the shimmers of protective magicks on the couch, she nodded in appreciation before ducking to avoid the faster than expected stream of curses sent in her general direction from the daughter. _Right, first thing to work on is their aim. Good instincts and nice cover tactics but they are leaving themselves pinned down. MERLIN'S HAIRY BALLSACK! What spell was that? _She had to duck suddenly as a beam of sickly green light with putrid yellow streaks rushed past where her face had been, completely bypassing her shields. _Or maybe just work on their opening attacks._ Stepping sideways, Holly took a moment to smile as her cannonball hex just smashed into the wall behind the couch, raining plaster dust and bricks down on the two Weasleys, before she took a breath and apparated.

Re-appearing to the side of the couch, she quickly stunned the daughter, who seemed too amazed at her tactic to quickly respond. The brother however seemed to have been expecting her and she was unable to counter or avoid the brick that he banished at her from point blank range, that felt like it had just broken her shoulder. He then _Enervated_ his sister, who blinked and shook her head as she recovered. Quickly stunning the boy, twisting to avoid another of those sickly green and yellow spells, and finally dropping the daughter once again with an overpowered stunner, she took a moment to look around the now battle thrashed living room. Not a single piece of furniture was unscathed and both the walls and ceiling had some nasty looking holes punched through them.

"Molly is going to kill me when I tell her I was responsible for this." Holly nodded to herself, snapped both children's wands, dropping them on the couch, and slowly dragged Ginny over next to Ron. Giving the room a final once over she spotted the family clock. "Sorry Molly. _Reducto_." The spell obliterated the only item that could have betrayed the location of her old friend's youngest children, along with a good sized portion of the mantelpiece.

After another quick scan of the room, she took both redhead's hands and activated the portkey back to Gryffindor Manor.

* * *

Mafalda Hopkirk looked up, annoyed, as another couple of alarms started buzzing. "Ronald Weasley," she glanced at the second detector, "And Ginevra Weasley. What game are you two playing? Irresponsible children." She sighed heavily, activating the secondary spells that would produce the letters. _What is it today? Have all of their parents taken leave of their senses? Who is supervising these children? Like that Lovegood girl, her father takes off to Sweden and a couple of hours later she is casting spells, unsupervised no less. _She shook her head. _Poor dear, well I'm sure the warning owl did its job. She hasn't cast anything since._

The Office Chief suddenly realised that the quills were still writing feverishly. _Still writing? You would think that Pureblood children would know better. I'll have to speak to Arthur about this. _She quickly folded up the letters and passed them to the owls waiting, rather impatiently, to leave. She then wandered out of her office, for the second time that day.

She passed, like an iceberg through the cold Atlantic waters, through the absolute chaos that was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the moment. Quickly zeroing in on Arthur Weasley over the far side of the hall where he was talking quietly with Amos Diggory.

"Arthur, if you have a moment?" She spoke calmly, smiling at both men.

"What can I do for you, Malfada. The twins are adults now, so I doubt it's about them." Arthur chuckled.

"No, I'm afraid your youngest two have been duelling or some such. Practicing perhaps…" She trailed off as she watched the Weasley patriarch turn a whiter shade of pale. "Arthur? Are you all right?" By the time she had finished saying that, he had already turned and was running across the chamber to where Kingsley Shacklebolt was commanding the search for Harry and Hermione.

* * *

Kingsley looked up as he heard running footsteps approach him. "Arthur? What's the matter, man?"

"Ron and Ginny. At the Burrow," Was all he managed to get out before the dark skinned Auror started yelling commands.

"TONKS! Get a team out to the Burrow, NOW! Savage, check the Lovegood house. Proudfoot, take a team to the Longbottom estate, locate the boy and sit on him."

"He might be visiting his parents at St. Mungo's." A gravely voice spoke up from behind him.

"Moody, thank Merlin you're here. Dawlish? Head over to St. Mungo's, same orders, locate the boy and secure him." He nodded to the aged ex-Auror and turned back to watch his people gathering and heading for the floo.

"Have you located any of them yet?" Alastor Moody spoke quietly, his good eye watching Arthur Weasley collapsing into a nearby chair.

"Arthur spoke to his children only an hour ago, they were safe in the Burrow." He shook his head. "We…"

The black Auror was interrupted by the arrival of one of the junior trainee Aurors. "Senior Auror Shacklebolt, sir."

"Yes Towler." The big man's voice and body language almost screamed that this interruption had better be for a good reason.

"S..s..sir, we just received a floo call from Mr. Fortescue in Diagon Alley." Young Towler gulped as his boss started growling for him to get to the point, "He said there was a disturbance in the Quibbler office a little while ago…" He trailed off as he watched his bosses rapidly retreating back.

"Moody!" The Senior Auror shouted as he bolted for the lift up to street level.

"Right with you." The clunking of his wooden leg rapidly following after him.

* * *

Arthur stepped out of the floo into a scene from his worst nightmares. The lounge room of the Burrow was destroyed. The furnishings damaged beyond recognition.

A junior Auror caught him before he could collapse.

"Arthur?" Tonks looked at the older man, worried. "Help him into the kitchen, and get him something to drink, he may be going into shock."

The junior Auror nodded, and helped guide Arthur into the kitchen.

The pristine condition of the kitchen quickly stabilised the poor man, as did a couple of quick swallows of fire whiskey from the young Auror's hip flask.

"Thanks son," Arthur stood up and gratefully squeezed the young Auror's shoulder. He steeled himself, and opened the door to the lounge room again. The chaos was unchanged. He swallowed, "Where are my children, Ron and Ginny?"

Tonks held up a pair of broken wands, "The same as Harry and Hermione's wands. Sorry Arthur."

He stared at her with uncomprehending eyes for a few moments, and then nodded. "I had better go tell Molly before she finds out some other way. You know where we'll be, Tonks."

There were tears of empathy in her eyes as she watched the grieving father disappear into the floo.

* * *

Dominic and both house elves were waiting for her this time.

"Up to the rooms, thank you Dobby, Winky." He waved his wand as a diagnostic spell sprang to life. "Dislocated shoulder, broken collarbone. What do you think you can teach them, when they are doing this to you?" He shook his head in disgust.

Holly watched the two children get levitated out of the room by the house elves. "The raw potential of these kids gives me goosebumps. Anyone can be good, but only those with something extra can be great." She winced as he started casting healing spells and bonesetting charms.

"And you think these kids can be great, is that it?" He snorted, "I hope you realise just how much trouble you're getting yourself in for. How many laws have you broken so far?"

"I'm not worried. The incident in the supermarket will result in me being fined, or my salary docked. I figure I'll give Lovegood an exclusive of my story to get him off my back. If necessary, I'll pay him off. And neither Molly and Arthur nor Frank and Alice will prosecute me."

"Augusta might."

"What does that old battleaxe have to do with this?"

"Frank and Alice are in St Mungo's. Lestrange Crucio'ed them both into insanity. Their son was raised by his grandmother."

"No. Not Frank, not Alice." Holly staggered back, shock doing what excruciating pain had not. She sat heavily on the stool Dom had placed behind her.

"Sorry you had to hear it like that. Everyone thought the boy was a squib until his Hogwarts letter arrived."

"The son of Frank and Alice Longbottom is not a squib. He'll become one of the greatest wizards of this age, if I have to train him every step of the way myself." She looked the black doctor in the eye, "I owe it to them."

He nodded and handed her a potion. "I know. I suggest you go find a bed or something before you drink this."

He followed her out of the entry hall and upstairs.

* * *

A few minutes later, she was once more healed and cleaned up.

Sitting beside Harry's bed, she looked thoughtfully at him while fiddling with her stolen wand.

"You were in pain." Harry's eyes suddenly flicked open.

Holly blinked a couple of times. "Yeah, the Doc has some really effective potions, but they hurt like the Cruciatus."

Harry put on his glasses and raised an eyebrow, "Who hurt you enough to require that kind of potion?"

She snorted, "This time it was your friend Ron, banished a brick into my shoulder."

"This time?"

"Hermione cast Reductoes at me when I went after her, and Luna almost took my head off with a cutting curse."

"Wow. I take it they meet your standards then." Harry was grinning.

"Yes, Mister I-forgot-to-mention-one-of-my-friends-is-a-Seer, they do meet my minimum standards."

"Which one?"

"Pardon?"

"Which one of my friends is a Seer?"

"Miss Lovegood had the entire Quibbler office set up like a fort. She was waiting for me."

"Wicked."

Holly sniffed disgustedly at him.

Harry just grinned happily. "What about Neville?"

"He's next. I just need to know where he's likely to be."

"I'd say he might still be at St. Mungo's. He did say he was going to be visiting his parents a fair bit over the holidays."

She looked away from her nephew, hiding the tears that the thought of Frank and Alice in hospital brought.

Harry also looked away, unsure of why, but certain that his Aunt was crying. "You okay?" He whispered.

She drew him into a silent hug for a few minutes while she composed herself. Then, with a final kiss to the top of his head, she turned and headed downstairs to floo to St. Mungo's.

* * *

"I'm sorry Auror Dawlish, I just came on shift and haven't seen young Mr. Longbottom. He might be up in the Long Term Care Ward visiting his parents, if he is here that's where he usually is." The administration nurse was annoyed to be interrupted by the loud aggressive Auror, and deliberately did not mention that the young man in question was at that very moment passing within about ten feet behind them on his way to the public floo.

* * *

The midnight blue robed figure of Holly Evans watched the two Aurors surreptitiously as she followed the Longbottom boy to the floo. _Resembles Alice more than Frank. I'll have to time this carefully or the wards at Longbottom manor will refuse me entry._

She watched as he opened a small tin from his pocket, took out the powder, and threw it into the floo.

"Longbottom Manor."

As Neville stepped into the floo, she launched herself across the room, her hood falling away, her rich crimson hair spilling out and blowing in the wake of her charge. She hurled herself into the floo, tackling the boy just as the magic of the floo network caught hold of him.

* * *

Mundungus Fletcher was in shock.

He had come to St. Mungo's to say goodbye to two of the finest people he had ever known. He had been sitting beside Frank when Neville had come in. The boy had been a bit of a worry when he was younger, but the events in the Department of Mysteries had settled, once and for all, the worth of Frank and Alice's son.

They often met each other in the Long Term Care Ward, the older man occasionally taking the young lad down to the cafeteria for a cuppa and a quiet talk if his grandmother was not with him.

As they had this day.

Mundungus had just said his goodbye to the boy when a rather loud discussion at the admissions desk had caught his attention.

He chuckled as the boorish Auror tried to intimidate the stern Nurse, one he knew could face down even the most abusive patient with aplomb.

His chuckle faded into a gasp when a blur of motion caught his eye.

A dark robed figure dashed across the room, moving with an innate grace he had not seen in decades.

Then her hood had fallen away, her red hair billowing in the wake of her passage.

"Hols?" A whispered gasp was all that came out.

He watched, paralysed by shock and hangover dampened reflexes, as the crimson haired woman crash tackled young Neville into the floo and was gone.

Breaking from his shock he stumbled over to the floo, grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the flames, "Longbottom Manor." The flames flashed red for a moment before returning to normal. He slammed his fist on the wall, "Damn you Augusta." Tears flowed from his eyes. "Damn you."

A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"What was that, Fletcher?" Dawlish growled.

The drunken wreck of a man stared at the Auror for a long moment.

"What was that about the Longbottoms?"

"Take your hand off me, Dawlish." Mundungus said quietly.

The Auror squeezed the drunk's shoulder harder. "Answer me, or I'll take you in, and you'll get scant mercy this time."

The other Auror watched the confrontation with growing unease.

Fletcher's posture and bearing suddenly changed. He stood upright; his customary slouch gone, a fey light seeming to glow within his eyes. He took his last bottle of fire whiskey out of his robes pocket, twisted off the lid, and began pouring it over Dawlish's head.

Dawlish screamed as the burning liquid started stinging his eyes and scalding his scalp. He let go of the other man and stumbled backwards.

Mundungus turned to the second Auror who had been going for his wand. "The Longbottom boy was just attacked and dragged into the floo. I couldn't get to them in time, and the destination is warded to prevent unauthorised entry."

The Auror gasped, "Where did they go?"

"Longbottom Manor."

* * *

Augusta Longbottom was sitting, bolt upright, in one of the nicer parlours in Longbottom Manor, entertaining a small group of Aurors.

"Thank you for taking the time to hear us out Madam Longbottom, with the disappearance of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is worried that someone may be seeking revenge for the events of last month."

The old lady raised a polite eyebrow, "The entire department? I'm sure we are gratified to know Neville is so well thought of. However, I am afraid he is visiting his parents…" She froze mid sentence, her tea cup half way to her lips.

"Is something the matter, Madam Longbottom?"

"Auror Proudfoot, I am afraid that someone has managed to gain entry through our floo, despite the wards. Would you be so kind as to accompany me down to the Atrium." She placed her cup and saucer aside, hiding her own reaction to the several Auror's rough handling of their teacups.

Algernon Proudfoot calmly placed his cup and saucer on the table and rose to his feet, offering the elderly lady his hand. He had been raised to be a proper Pureblood, one did not lose ones head, and one did not let ones manners slip, even in an emergency. "Certainly Madam Longbottom."

* * *

Neville felt something crash into him as he entered the floo. All he could see of his opponent was a glimpse of dark robes. _If only I'd gone to Olivander's this morning. Ah well, I guess we do this the painful way._ He started kicking and punching and clawing at his assailant, even while they spun through the floo network on their way to his home.

* * *

The two of them crashed out of the floo, landing in an uncoordinated heap. Neville shook his head and realised he was laying on the floor with someone on top of him.

He raised his head and bumped it into something, lowered it, and swung it back up again. Hard.

Holly felt the bump as the boy hit her face with the back of his head, and then fell back and rolled off him when he broke her nose with an almighty crack.

Neville used the reprieve to pull himself to his feet and turn to face his opponent. She was wearing dark robes and had taken the moment to pull her hood back up. She had her wand out and pointing at him.

They were only a couple of metres apart.

Neville dropped his shoulders as if in defeat, and lunged forward. Putting his shoulder into her stomach, he tackled her into a large (and horrifically expensive) ceramic vase, shattering it, and slamming her down into the broken pieces.

Her return blow, a full extension punch to the groin, staggered him back, giving her room to bring her wand back into play. A stream of rather unpleasant curses flew across the room at the young man.

He collapsed from the initial pain, avoiding the first few curses, and then rolled to the side. Climbing back to his feet behind the protection of another (matching) vase. He used it as a shield to ward off her spells while he moved closer.

She backed off, keeping up the constant stream of spells.

Neville, still using the rapidly splintering vase as a shield with one hand, leaned down and scooped up a large shard of broken pottery. After a few more moments, he heaved the vase at his opponent and lunged at her wand with the broken piece.

Holly sidestepped the incoming vase, keeping the wand oriented on her opponent.

He shrugged off a lesser pain curse and smashed the piece of pottery down onto the wand in his opponent's hand, the rough, but blade-like edge of the ceramic shard cleaving into the wand.

He backed off as he watched sparks fly out the side of the wand when she tried to cast a stunner at him. Nothing came the second time, or the third. He grinned and started moving forwards, fists raised.

Holly snarled, dropped the wand and slipped on the enchanted knuckle-duster hidden in her pocket.

Neville stepped forwards and threw a couple of punches towards her. Both missed, now that she was ready for him, though she couldn't avoid the third, a punch to the face. On his fourth punch he overextended a little and she drove the knuckle-duster into his ribs.

Neville collapsed in shock. The amount of pain he could feel in his ribs was telling him that at least four were broken.

He looked up at her, catching a brief glimpse of smouldering green eyes, before a blow from her knee brought him to unconsciousness.

She checked him over, hauled him to his feet and dragged him through the floo.

* * *

The Aurors burst into the Atrium just as the green flames in the floo faded back to normal.

They stood there in shock, staring at the carnage that had taken place in the room.

Augusta Longbottom had lived a long life. She had seen many things; war, the depression, and the turning of an age. Coming into her own Atrium to find it destroyed did not even so much as ruffle her composure. "Auror Proudfoot, what do you make of this?"

"It would appear we are too late. It would seem that young Master Longbottom has encountered and been captured by the assailant."

"I see. Well thank you for trying, do keep me appraised of the search for my grandson and his friends, won't you."

"Of course, Madam Longbottom." He bowed politely, and ushered his people out.

* * *

Once they were well away from the old lady, one of the Aurors turned to the one beside him, "That was cold, it's like she didn't care or anything."

Proudfoot glared back at the two, "She cares a great deal, but it is unseemly to show emotion in public. Augusta Longbottom is a great lady, and does not deserve to be gossiped about. Understand." His eyes had narrowed.

His subordinates nodded hurriedly, not wanting their very intense supervisor to get too irritated at them. ((proper englishmen don't get pissed, they get irritated, then annoyed, then they call down the wrath of god and invade your country **grins**))

* * *

Back at the Longbottom manor, Augusta Longbottom was observing the results of a spell she had just cast with satisfaction. _This is not Longbottom blood. There is some of Neville's blood here, but most is not. He may have been taken, but he has done himself and his family proud._

She was still observing the results of the spell when the floo came active, the face of Alastor Moody appearing in the flames.

"Good Day, Alastor. You are too late, my grandson has been captured."

"May I come through, Augusta?"

She considered the craggy face in the flames for a moment, "Very well."

The flames roared up and the battered figure of Alastor Moody stepped out into the Atrium.

Moody looked around, noting the damage to the room, and the results of the spell. He raised his good eyebrow.

"The majority of the blood in this room is not Longbottom blood. My grandson has done his family proud, particularly considering he was without a wand." She spoke primly, though someone who knew her well would easily note the pride in her voice.

"No wand?" Moody began casting the lineage spell himself. "It appears that your Phoenician Vases were valuable after all. The boy used them to shield himself…and that piece over there was used to damage his opponent's wand."

"I noticed the residue from someone's wand when I came in. The air has cleared somewhat since then, but the smell was quite…acrid when I first arrived."

As the spell ran its course, Moody began recognising the patterns. "I have seen this before, but I've not seen it in a while. I'll look into it for you."

"Thank you, Alastor."

He nodded, stepped into the floo, and was gone.

* * *

Holly tumbled out of the floo into the entry hall of Gryffindor Manor, the unconscious Neville in tow. "DOBBY?"

_Pop_. "Yes Mistress Holly?"

"Take Neville upstairs to the Doc, would you?"

"Certainly, Mistress Holly." The house elf peered at her thoughtfully for a couple of moments and levitated Neville out of the room.

Moments later Winky appeared. _Pop_. "Does Mistress Holly need help getting upstairs to see Healer Mayfair?"

Holly looked at the short elf in surprise. "I'm fine thanks, Winky." She slowly started walking towards the stairs; the elf following her all the way, not convinced she could make it on her own.

"Bloody Hell, Holly. What did you do to this one?" The doctor stuck his head out into the hallway. "Merlin's Great Greasy Gonads! What the Hell happened to you?"

"What?" She glared at him.

He pointed at the hall mirror beside her.

She looked where he indicated and gasped in shock. "Bollocks." Her face was covered in dying blood, her nose was out of shape and her eyes were fast on the way to a fabulous impression of a panda.

"The boy did that to you? Damn. He must have kegs swinging between his legs."

"Yeah, well you remember the countercharm for this don't you?" She held up her knuckle-duster.

"You hit him with that? Were you trying to kill him? Or did he have you on the ropes?" He saw the look in her face change as he spoke. "The Great Holly Evans threatened by a fifteen year old kid?"

"Shut it, you." She winced as she passed him into her room. "He did better than I expected. He even head butted me." She sat down to let him examine her.

"That's it though. No more?" He began healing her, the slow way this time, making sure any cumulative damage from the previous excursions was properly healed.

"All done. I'm just glad Harry doesn't have more friends. If that had gone on much more, one of them might have got me."

The black healer just laughed at her.

* * *

The mood was grim at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Arthur was slumped, totally defeated, in the corner of the dining room. The twins were sitting beside him, their faces totally blank, occasionally looking at each other or towards their father.

Molly had initially collapsed into hysterics and recriminations, not a few of which were aimed at herself, before finally descending into the kitchen where she had been ever since. Cooking. Cooking to keep her mind off the fact her children were missing.

Albus Dumbledore was not in much better shape, but was better at hiding it. He sat at the head of the table, trying to put together the pieces that his people were bringing him, and failing.

The other members of the Order were scattered around the room.

Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were summing up their investigation.

"As far as we can tell, the attack on Potter precipitated this…event." Tonks broke off, looking up at Arthur.

"Six Death Eaters attacked his home, and were all killed. Harry's wand was broken; whoever rescued him took one of the Death Eaters wands with them. The next morning, they evidently slept in and, at about lunch time, started hunting down his friends." The big Auror reported slowly. "They caught up with Miss Granger at a muggle supermarket where she was shopping, she cast three explosion curses before succumbing to stunners. Her wand was snapped and left there."

There was a murmur amongst the assembled order.

"The next attack was on Luna Lovegood in the Quibbler office in Diagon Alley. The assailant apparently floo'ed in, and fought with Lovegood before finally taking her out via portkey. The team sent to the Lovegood residence initially thought they had gone to the wrong place." Tonks looked a little confused herself but continued, "Since there was no sign that Lovegood actually lived there. The other thing that confused the Aurors investigating the site of the battle, 'cause that's what it was people, was that Lovegood had set it up like a fort. She must have been expecting the attack, nothing else makes sense."

Kingsley took over, "Sorry Arthur, Molly, but the next attack was at the Burrow. As near as we can figure, the assailant floo'ed into the lounge room where Ronald and Ginevra were studying. The couch opposite the floo had a surprising number of defensive spells and wards cast on it, apparently by Ronald, while the majority of attack spells bore Ginevra's wand signature." He looked Arthur and then Molly in the face, "They both put up one helluva fight."

Alastor Moody entered the room; his craggy features the liveliest in the room. "I just got back from the Longbottoms. Neville is gone as well, but put up a solid struggle. Used his fists and a couple of priceless vases to attack his opponent. He destroyed the wand too. Good Lad. Well done, I say."

Kingsley sat down heavily, "Proudfoot mentioned there was blood at the Longbottom's. Did anything turn up from it?"

Moody's eye spun wildly for a moment, "Nothing, I'm afraid. Very little of it was Longbottom's but the rest had been neutralised, rendered inert and useless for spells."

Kingsley slammed his fist down on the table in frustration.

"How do we.."

"Know it was.."

"All done by.."

"One person?" The twins spoke up for the first time.

Tonks looked at the two of them, "The wand signatures were all identical, the same wand and the same person using it. All five times. The portkey signatures were identical as well, same wand, same caster."

"Can you trace" "The portkey signatures?"

"To an extent, but the destination is warded and unplotable. With Olivander's assistance we may be able to set up detectors to tell us when the wand is used agai…but that won't work, it's broken…damn." Tonks sat down with a defeated sigh.

Snape spoke up finally, "The Dark Lord does not have Potter, and only found out he had sent Death Eaters to attack him from this morning's Daily Prophet. The fools attacked him without letting anyone know what they were up to."

Dumbledore stood, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Friends, there is little we can do at this point but wait and hope that one of the children can get a message out to us. Go home, try to get some rest. With the Dark Lord searching for Harry, he will have little time to plan attacks, so we have a brief reprieve." He sank down into his seat and watched his loyal followers slowly file out.

* * *

Arthur and Molly apparated back to Ottery St. Catchpole and walked back to the Burrow. The twins had apparated as well, but jogged on ahead.

Molly had been devastated once again when they entered their home. Not only was the lounge room smashed, but also her heirloom clock had been destroyed. She had no way of keeping an eye on her children anymore.

Entering the kitchen for the first time, both parents were shocked to find four of their remaining children preparing a late supper. The twins were there of course, as were Bill and, to their complete shock, Percy.

"Mother, Father." He greeted them stiffly handing them each a mug of hot chocolate.

Then it all broke down.

Tears, hugs, laughter, sorrow.

Everyone went to bed late, each exhausted by his or her emotions.

* * *

Arthur's eyes flicked open._ There's someone in the house._ He slowly and carefully got out of bed, so as not to disturb his sleeping wife, threw on a robe, snatched up his wand, and slowly crept downstairs.

Emerging from the shadows of the stairway, he saw a lone figure sitting, with it's back to him, at the table in the darkened kitchen. Wand held firmly, Arthur approached.

"Don't bother, Arthur. I'm not going to attack you." A familiar voice spoke quietly.

"Fletcher?"

The person at the table turned around to face him, revealing himself to in fact be the missing black-marketeer.

"Bastard," Arthur snarled, grabbing the other man by the collar and hauling him to his feet, before slamming him into the kitchen wall. "Where were you when Harry needed you? When I needed you?" Tears were flowing from Arthur's eyes now, and he released the other man as his burst of rage subsided into sorrow.

"Arthur, I failed everyone. I failed Holly, I failed Frank and Alice, and I failed Harry." He sat down opposite the redhead. "I was in St Mungo's this afternoon, saying goodbye to the Longbottom's when I saw it happen."

"You saw Neville?" Arthur spoke dully.

"Yes. I was so dopey from my hangover that I couldn't have helped him if I'd tried." He shook his head, "Yesterday, a contact of mine told me that some Death Eaters had found where Harry was and were going to attack. I was gone from Privet Drive for less than ten minutes…and that was all it took for them to get in and do it. Afterwards I nearly drank myself into oblivion." Mundungus head lowered in shame.

Arthur tried to speak, then just settled for gripping the other man reassuringly on the shoulder.

"I cannot go on like this Arthur. It has to end."

"You don't…" Arthur started, but stopped when he saw the potion vials the other man was placing on the table. "You could die from those." He said carefully.

"Or I could come out free from this thrice damned addiction. It doesn't let go easy. Many go insane trying. I cannot live with another failure, and you are going to need…Him."

Arthur stared into the other mans eyes. "I'll help you, as we all promised. When do you want to do this?"

"As soon as possible, before I lose my nerve."

* * *

In a sizable home, in an affluent suburb of London, a quiet couple comforted each other. The impersonal letter said nothing that could explain why their daughter had not come home that night.

Frantic calls to the police and hospitals had all come up blank.

Their only child, their shining light, their pride and joy.

Vanished.

Like Magic.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

The usual…I don't own it…yadda…

* * *

**Chapter 7.**

**The Past – a week or so after the Department of Mysteries.**

Percy Weasley cleared his throat for a third time.

"What do you want Weasley? I don't have time to deal with snivelling toads like you. Go brown nose somewhere else." Lucius Malfoy resumed his contemplation of far weightier matters; just what shade of off-white the prison wall was painted, for example. The bored tone in his voice echoing his general mien.

"Actually, I'm quite certain you do, Mr. Malfoy." Percy examined the other man over the top of his glasses, "Your imminent execution perhaps lends rather more urgency to our discourse."

"What are you blathering about?" Lucius' glared forcefully at the young man on the other side of the bars. "Explain yourself."

"It is quite simple. You are a Death Eater, and were caught during a battle in which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took part."

"My familial connections will get me free. The Imperius Curse. The judiciary can be convinced, will be convinced of my innocence…"

Percy interrupted the other mans rant, "I doubt it. You have already been tried in a secret session, and found guilty. Your execution is set for this weekend." Percy folded his arms up into the voluminous sleeves of his robes of office.

Lucius sat back in shock, staring up at the redhead. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I was sent by the Minister to question you with Veritaserum, to extract a full confession of your crimes from you."

"Is the man an idiot? A full confession would incriminate him as much as it would me." Malfoy spluttered.

Percy raised an eyebrow, "Indeed? The constraints of Veritaserum, however, will prevent you from giving information unrelated to the question being asked. Minister Fudge has given exacting orders regarding what I should question you about. Your confession will be quite thorough, but implicate only yourself and your fellow Death Eaters."

Malfoy slumped back onto the hard bench in his cell. "Again, why are you telling me this?"

The redheaded man considered the man opposite him for a few moments, "I have to follow my orders, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I think we could come to an arrangement here."

"Of course, why not. What have I got to lose?" Lucius' sarcasm was quite pronounced. "Do your master's bidding Weasley, and leave me. I care not for your 'arrangement'."

"Is that really the case? Do you truly not wish for me to get word of your location and predicament to your…allies?" Percy's voice had dropped down to little more than a whisper.

"What is this? A member of a Light-aligned family offering aid to a member of a Dark-aligned family?"

"I prefer to look at it from a Purity standpoint," the pomposity in Percy's voice audible despite his whispering.

Malfoy blinked a couple of times in surprise. "I see." His eyes narrowed, "And what do you seek from this 'arrangement'?"

"In fifteen to twenty years, this entire matter will be ancient history. The mid-level bureaucrats will be department heads and powers in their own rights. Their sins long forgotten."

"You seek to know their sins? To what end?"

"In fifteen to twenty years I **will** be Minister of Magic."

Lucius eyed the young man in front of him speculatively, "Why not side with us? Join us, Wealth and Power beyond anything you could imagine can easily be yours."

"Replace one master with another?" Percy shook his head slowly. "I think not. I can, however, deliver your salvation…if you will but agree to my terms."

"How did you manage to convince the Hat to place you in Gryffindor?" Malfoy shook his head. "Very well, administer the Veritaserum and ask your questions."

* * *

For just over two hours he had questioned Lucius Malfoy under Veritaserum. Now Percy stood stiffly in the Department of Mysteries, an unfurled scroll held in his hands. "Lucius Malfoy, for your crimes against the Ministry and against Wizarding Britain, you are hereby condemned to immediate execution."

Lucius struggled against the two large Aurors who held him, his face flushed, roaring his fury, "YOU LITTLE BAST…."

"_Silencio_. The Minister has approved the use of the Veil of Death, through which you shall be cast." Percy shook his head sadly, "And may Merlin damn your blackened soul."

The two Aurors moved Lucius into position, while a third drew aside the curtains covering the Veil. The Aurors nodded to each other and pushed the resisting man into the gaping portal, through which he swiftly vanished.

Percy turned to the three Aurors. _Fudge loyalists, the lot of them. Still they have their uses._ He nodded, "Only ten more to go, gentlemen. Minister Fudge appreciates your discretion and dedication to duty."

"Only what they deserve, Undersecretary, only what they deserve." The three Aurors nodded to each other at that sentiment.

* * *

Nineteen hours later, Percival Weasley slumped into the seat at his desk in the Minister's outer office.

Percy shook his head, and focussed his attention on the pile of parchment on the desk in front of him. He separated out the 'official' confessions, from the **full** confessions that he had extracted from the Death Eaters. The official confessions went into his 'urgent' box, for the Minister's perusal in the morning.

He stared at the full confessions, and considered the heavy weight of secrets contained within. He tapped his wand onto a trophy on his desk twice and spoke a complex incantation, smiling as the extra-dimensional storage space contained within opened up before him. He carefully placed the pile of parchment inside it, and banished the access, hiding it once more from earthly interference.

He stared at his hands, wiping them clean of imagined bloodstains, "So this is what it means to have the power over Life and Death…Merlin forbid that I should ever grow accustomed to it."

* * *

**Early Morning, the day after the kidnappings.**

Gurrrrgle-maargle-raaaaarrrr-glorpp.

Ron's eyes flicked open.

Brraargle-murgle-barrrgle-raarrrrr.

Ron looked down at his stomach. "Quiet you." He sat up slowly, noticing that he was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. A very richly appointed room.

He stood up, felt faintly dizzy for a moment, and then sat down again as the events of the previous day surged back into his mind. "Bloody Hell, Mum's going to kill us."

"No she won't…except maybe from hugging the breath out of us."

"Ginny? Where are we?" Ron quickly covered himself, realising he was only wearing boxers.

Ginny was leaning against the doorway, "Haven't the faintest. I woke up a few minutes ago in the room next to yours, haven't had a chance to explore yet." Noting his predicament, she giggled. "Clothes are on the chair, bath is through that door in the corner."

"I'll be out in a couple of minutes then."

She pulled the door closed behind her as he leapt out of bed, grabbed the pile of clothes off the chair and fled into the bathroom.

* * *

Ten minutes later, clad in light summer robes fit for a noble, Ron emerged from his room.

"About time," Ginny muttered. "I found Hermione and Luna while I was waiting for you. Hermione's in the room next to mine and Luna's is next to hers."

"Hermione's here?" Ron's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Maybe Harry is somewhere here as well."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Luna looks pale and has bandages around her head, and Hermione has some kind of tube sticking into her arm. I think it's a muggle thing."

"It can't be, why would we be wearing robes if there were muggles here?" Ron poked his head into the room next to his, seeing a bandage-swathed Neville lying on top of the bed, he looked back at his sister, "I found Nev. Looks like he got it much worse than us."

"Who do you think she was? The woman who attacked us, I mean." Ginny looked in at Neville, wincing at how painful his injuries looked.

"She wasn't Bellatrix. Hair was the wrong colour."

"Could you two possibly make any more noise? I'm sleeping here." Neville grumbled.

"Nev? You all right mate?" Ron entered the room to examine the bandages covering Neville.

"No I'm not. Feels like a Hagrid is stomping around in my head, and my ribs are broken." Neville tentatively reached up and pressed his hands against where he remembered feeling his ribs break. "Huh? They're fine."

"I'd think so considering you're covered in enchanted bandages," Ginny was examining a potion that she had just picked up of the side table. "I think this is for your headache, and this one is Skelegrow…but it looks a bit odd."

Neville slowly sat up, "So how did you guys get here?" He took the two potions off Ginny, looking from one to the other dubiously.

"Strange woman in dark robes attacked us at the Burrow." Ron nodded to the potions, "I think those'll be legit. She wouldn't have gone to the trouble of healing you just to poison you afterwards."

"Somehow she bypassed the wards Dad set on the floo, and attacked us in the lounge room." Ginny finished.

"She attacked me just when I was entering the floo at St Mungo's. Used me to get through the wards at the Manor. I got in a few good hits and managed to break her wand before she broke my ribs and knocked me out." He shrugged and swallowed the two potions.

The two redheads watched with interest as Neville reacted to the taste of the two potions.

"You know how Harry always says Skelegrow tastes like a hippogryff shat in your mouth?" Neville was screwing his face up.

"Yeah."

"Well this tastes more like a fruit salad shat in my mouth."

Both redheads chuckled at that.

Ron grabbed the robes off the chair and threw them over to Neville. "Get dressed, we need to explore some more. We haven't found Harry yet."

Neville caught the robes, "What do you mean?"

"You, us, Hermione and Luna are here. So Harry is probably somewhere nearby." Ginny said as she left the room, "So hurry up and get dressed so we can go find him."

* * *

A short while later the five were gathered in what appeared to be a small dining room. Breakfast was laid out buffet style on a side table.

"What is that tube thing, anyway?" Ron asked between mouthfuls of bacon.

"It's called a drip, muggle doctors use it to administer medicines to unconscious patients, or to slowly administer medicine over a longer period of time." Hermione rolled her eyes, "And before you ask, the metal pole on wheels is so I can move about without losing the drip."

"So, what's going on? I take it we were all attacked by a woman in dark robes," Ginny spoke from behind a piece of toast, peeking over the top of it at the others.

Luna nodded, "At the Quibbler office," and bit happily into a slice of mango.

"She tackled me into the floo at St. Mungo's." Neville was looking at the pile of fruit dubiously.

"She apparated into the supermarket, in broad daylight," Hermione's voice rose towards the end of that statement.

"She burst out of the floo at the Burrow." Ron was examining his eggs, "You know, this tastes just like the eggs at Hogwarts."

Neville looked at Ron thoughtfully, "Good point." He stood up and began searching the room.

The others watched Neville with looks of bemusement.

"It's on the windowsill," Luna added helpfully.

"Aha. Thanks Luna," Neville reached behind the thick crimson curtains and emerged with a small golden hand bell. He rang it, a short sharp tingle.

_Pop._

"The young master rang?" A house elf in a butler's uniform had appeared near the doorway.

Even Neville was surprised at the confident demeanour and the hint of power resonant in the house elf's voice.

"Ah, yes. We were wondering if there was anyone else in the house, and where they are?" Neville quickly recognising that this house elf served a powerful house, chose to keep his tone polite.

"Of course. Besides yourselves, Healer Mayfair is out on the grounds practicing his golf, the Master is recovering in the master suite from his latest round of potions, and the Mistress is out. If that is all?"

_Pop._

The five just stared into the space vacated by the house elf.

"There's something familiar about that elf." Hermione muttered.

"Healer Mayfair, huh? Well that explains the bandages and potions," Ginny poked Neville in the ribs.

Hermione looked at Neville curiously, "How did you know about the bell?"

"Most pureblood families that have house elves have some means for guests to summon them. A bell or something like it." He took a closer look at the bell, and chuckled. "I think I know who 'the Master' is."

"Show us." Luna was licking the last of the mango juice off her fingers.

Neville held the bell up so the others could see the coat of arms engraved into the bell.

"What family crest is that?" Hermione asked.

"I'm shocked Hermione, that you of all people cannot recognise the arms of one of the great old houses. Ron? Ginny? Luna?" Neville was enjoying himself; it was so rare that he was the one who knew what was going on. "Do none of you pay heed to our history, culture, and heritage? I mean, there are Americans who would recognise this coat of arms."

"I'm obviously not up to speed with my heraldry," Hermione snarked.

Ron just shook his head and helped himself to more bacon.

Ginny chuckled, "Not all of us were raised 'to properly fulfil our station in life'," she had switched to a very proper formal English for the end bit.

Luna smiled and started spreading some marmalade on a thick slice of toast.

Hermione glared at Neville.

Who just smiled back at her, while grabbing some more of the bacon before Ron could get all of it.

For the first time since they had found the room, she sat back to consider the décor. Richly furnished, the mantelpiece was of finest red marble. The drapes over the window were crimson, as was the carpet. Now that she was paying attention, Hermione noted that there were Gryffindor lions everywhere; gold ones in the carpet, on the drapes, around the ceiling. "Gryffindor."

"Not a bad guess, the family has been associated with Gryffindor almost as long as the Weasley's have," Neville replied.

Hermione was about to respond, when a large golf bag slowly floated through the doorway. All five stood up, with Ron and Neville moving to the front of the group.

A cheery black face wearing a tartan hat with a yellow pompom poked out of the doorway. "All awake I see." When they made no immediately hostile action, the black healer stepped into the room proper. "I am Doctor Dominic Mayfair, and now that you're awake, it's time for a proper check up."

The teens were stunned by the appearance of the tall black man. He was wearing a golfing outfit that would have Paine Stewart crying tears of admiration and envy. In his left hand was a regular doctors bag, and in his right was a golf club, a number 2 wood to be precise.

"Doctor?" Hermione asked. "I thought the house elf said 'Healer'."

"Both actually. I studied Healing at St. Mungo's, before pretty much abandoning the wizarding world to study Medicine at Edinburgh.

"Why did you leave the wizarding world?" Ron was mystified.

"It's a little hard to find patients willing to see a healer who has been tainted by all that muggle nonsense." He snorted. "But that is beside the point. You are all in need of medical attention, and I'm here to give it."

"Why should we trust you?" Neville asked, eyes narrowed.

The doctor backed off a step or two, "Now, no need for aggression. I'd hate to see all my hard work putting you back together gone to waste." He was now holding the doctors bag in front of himself like a shield.

Neville considered the adult for a few moments, and then nodded, "Very well, Healer Mayfair. If you would be so good as to present your credentials."

The healer's smile was all the brighter for the contrast against his dark skin. He withdrew both a Healers certification, as well as his muggle documents. "Are these to your satisfaction, Master Longbottom?"

Neville raised an eyebrow. "You know who I am?"

"Of course. I had to repair the damage each of you did to…Ah there I go again," He grinned and tucked his credentials away in his bag again. "As I was saying it is time for me to give you all a proper once over. From what I've heard of your life stories, you've had it pretty rough."

The five looked at each other.

Ron shrugged, "Me first, I guess."

* * *

Holly stepped out of the floo into the atrium of Gryffindor Manor.

"Mistress Holly, the guests have all awakened and are being seen to be Healer Mayfair."

"Thank you Winky. How's Harry doing?" She stood there dusting soot off her robes.

"Master Harry has slept peacefully and should be waking shortly." Winky thought for a moment, "Would Mistress Holly prefer to have lunch served out on the lawn?"

"For all of us? Yes, I think so. When Harry wakes up, inform his friends that they are expected for lunch out on the lawn. Harry and I will meet them there." Holly slipped into the hallway.

* * *

Ginny looked at Neville and Luna. Ron was in his room, and Healer Mayfair was seeing Hermione.

"Neville, you've been around places like this before right?" Ginny whispered.

"Yeah."

"Would you be able to find your way around it?"

"I think so. I haven't seen anything like at Hogwarts that would make it any harder. Why?"

"We should go see if the 'Master' is actually Harry."

"But…" He started to argue, but was cut off when Ginny unleashed an impish smile that would have been banned by the Geneva Conventions, had they known about it at the time. "Okay…I think it will be downstairs on the first floor."

"Are you coming Luna?" Ginny turned to the other girl.

"I'll wait here, Healer Mayfair will be done with Hermione soon, so it will be my turn." Luna sat down next to the window, looking out over the gardens.

* * *

"I get the distinct feeling I've seen some of these paintings before," Ginny whispered to Neville.

"Possibly. The one with Hogwarts in the background back there is similar to one down near the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room." Neville was attempting to move quietly down the hall, and doing quite a good job of it.

"Did you notice that Healer Mayfair almost mentioned that he was the one who healed the woman who attacked us?" Ginny paused to examine a very lifelike painting of a man with a huge…she quickly moved on, her face turning bright red.

"What? Oh, yes. I'm not sure what I think of that idea." Neville said thoughtfully, as he stood in front of a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. "This is either the master bedroom or the stables. Depends on how eccentric the original owners were."

"Stables? Wouldn't they be on the ground floor?" Ginny looked confused.

"You'd think so, but one of the Brown Clan manors has a stable on the upper floor. Never really got an explanation for that." He continued examining the latch while he spoke, "Good, I don't think it is trapped."

"What?" Ginny blinked at Neville a few times. "Who would trap their bedroom door?"

"My Uncle Algie for one. He took particular delight in trapping my bedroom door." Neville fiddled with the latch for a moment.

_Click!_

"There we go." He turned to face Ginny, a triumphant grin on his face, and presented a hairpin to her with a practiced flourish.

She took the hairpin from his hand, looking at it curiously, "Where did this come from?"

"Just behind your left ear, I borrowed it a couple of minutes ago." Neville opened the door, bowing and indicating she should precede him into the room. "After you my Lady."

Ginny stared at him for a few moments. _I didn't feel a thing. How did he do that?_ She shook her head, grinned at him and swept into the room.

* * *

Harry had never slept so well, not at Privet Drive, not at Hogwarts, not at Grimmauld Place, not even at the Burrow. Waking was a peaceful transition, for the first time he found himself able to just lie there, relaxing. There was no need to hurry, no need to rush, no one yelling for him to get moving or to do chores. For once he could take his time.

He slowly climbed to his feet, stretching cat-like as he crossed the floor to his private bathroom.

* * *

Ginny stopped dead.

There, before her, was a vision of manhood in black silk boxers. Arms reaching for the ceiling, back curved, messy black hair tumbling over chiselled shoulders. Tight, lean, corded muscles rippled as he completed his stretch.

"Great Merlin," she wiped the side of her mouth with the back of her hand, having noticed she had been drooling a little.

* * *

"Great Merlin."

Neville sagged internally. He had been having a great time, and even better, he had impressed Ginny. He Had. All on his own.

And now here was Harry, looking like a Greek deity incarnate in black boxers. _How can I compete with that?_ Neville started to fade back into the shadowed doorway.

* * *

"Great Merlin."

Harry spun around noticing, for the first time, the two intruders in his room.

"Ginny? Neville?" He blinked a few times trying to focus on them without his glasses on. He shook his head, "Could you guys wait for a couple of minutes, I'll join you." He smiled.

"Sure Harry," Neville nodded.

"Uh huh," Ginny muttered, slowly backing towards the door.

"And then someone can tell me how you managed to open the most securely locked door in the house without a wand." Harry slipped into his bathroom.

* * *

Ginny and Neville shut the door behind them, both quietly submerged in their own thoughts.

Neville was discretely observing Ginny. _Over him my arse. Ah well, it was a pipe dream anyway._ He leaned against the wall casually.

Ginny was not, as Neville thought, thinking solely about Harry's body. _Without a wand? Harry could barely see us, how did he know we didn't have a wand? Sure, Nev doesn't have one, but I might have…but he knew I didn't._ She suddenly looked at Neville, "Where are our wands?"

Neville blinked in confusion for a moment. "Run that by me again, from the beginning."

"Harry knew I didn't have my wand despite being unable to see past his nose. Which means he knows we don't have wands. Which means he knows what is going on here."

Neville's face took on a serious expression as he sank into thought.

"The house elf mentioned a 'master' and a 'mistress', and Healer Mayfair all but admitted to healing her after she attacked us." Ginny was beginning to turn a little red as her temper flared up.

"Proving a point, I think," Ron's voice interrupted his sister's rant. "And thanks for waiting for the rest of us."

Ron and Hermione stepped out of a stairwell not far from where the two were waiting for Harry.

Neville nodded to them both, then cocked his head, "Proving a point?"

"Whoever this woman is, she is allied with Harry," Ron was looking thoughtful.

Hermione tapped Ron's head, "Anyone got a sneakoscope handy, I think someone is polyjuiced as Ron."

"Har har har. I'm serious here. What Ginny was saying as we arrived kinda just put things into place." Ron batted away Hermione's hands.

"I think I agree with Ron." Neville said quietly. "She is Harry's ally, but I don't get what you meant by proving a point."

Hermione nodded, "We were too vulnerable, too complacent. If she could get us all, it's not hard to figure the Death Eaters could do the same."

Ginny nodded, "Okay, we'll ignore for the moment the sheer number of laws that were broken to prove that point, and move onto the next issues. Who is she? Where are our wands? And what happens next?"

* * *

Harry had been listening to his friends speculate on the other side of his door for the last few minutes. Timing his entrance perfectly, he stepped out of his room right into the silence following Ginny's questions.

"What happens next is lunch out on the lawn. Your other questions will be answered there," Harry grinned at his friends stunned reaction.

The first of them to react was Hermione, who balled up her fist and slammed a full extension punch into his stomach, folding him up and dropping him to the floor of the hallway. She then almost strangled him in a hug. "We were so worried about you. Don't you ever do that again."

Ron looked at Neville, "Damn."

Neville raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"I was going to hit him, but she beat me to it."

Ginny elbowed her brother in the ribs.

Hermione helped Harry to his feet again.

"Right, can we maybe go collect Luna and head down to lunch without any further violence?" Harry looked at his friends. "Please?"

The other three looked at each other for a moment, before shrugging and smiling evilly at Harry.

"Fine. Come on." Harry led them back upstairs.

* * *

Harry refused to answer any questions until after Doctor Mayfair had seen to Ginny and Neville. Once everyone was medicated and dressed, they headed down to lunch.

* * *

Author Note: Took a while to get this one up, but real life takes precedence over just about everything. probably get more up soon.


	8. Chapter 8

The usual…I don't own it…yadda…

* * *

**Chapter 8.**

**The Past – a few days before Harry's disappearance.**

Percy Weasley was in his element.

Which is to say he was behind his desk, outside the Minister's office, sorting through all the Minister's correspondence. Which ones the Minister would need to see, which weren't important enough to pass on to the Minister and, most important of all, which ones would garner favours owed to Percy if they were passed to the Minister's attention.

It was a careful balancing act in which one wrong move could result in Percy being fired or worse, noticed!

Percy looked up as the Minister passed by him. "Minister Fudge? I have a number of submissions from the Department heads here, along with a request for more funding from the DMLE, and Madame Umbridge's transfer papers for your approval."

"Ah, Dolores, yes. Rather unfortunate that. Where should I transfer her to?" Cornelius mused to himself as he ran a practiced eye over the paperwork. "New Zealand?"

"This is not a good time for someone who spent time in St. Mungo's for mental instability to be connected to your office, Minister. It also would not do for Senior Undersecretary Umbridge to suffer a demotion, so a sideways transfer was appropriate. Senior Undersecretary to the Ambassador to New Zealand," Percy affected quiet concern for his ill superior.

Fudge nodded approvingly.

"Also, New Zealand has a much smaller non-human population than most of the rest of the world, so some time there may help settle her nerves." Percy finished and looked at the Minister expectantly. Percy didn't add that with its much smaller Wizarding population, the actual proportion of non-humans was much higher in New Zealand than anywhere else in the world.

"An excellent suggestion, Weatherby. And the rest of this?" Cornelius waved his hand over the huge pile of paperwork covering his subordinate's desk.

"Following precedent set by yourself and Madame Umbridge, this pile is unimportant and will be rerouted to the correct offices," Percy shifted about a third of the papers to one side. "This is standard correspondence that only requires you to sign off on it," Percy shifted about half the remaining pile. "These are budgetary submissions from the various departments, that do not need to be dealt with for another three months, and can then be passed off to the Ministry's accounting department directly," he moved that handful into his Outbox. "These deal with items and situations that run contrary to Ministry Policy, and will be dealt with accordingly," Percy placed them aside, picking up the last three papers in front of him, "And you will need to read these before signing them sir."

Cornelius Fudge blinked a couple of times, accepted the two handfuls of paperwork his Junior Undersecretary handed him, and retreated to his office.

Percy hid a satisfied grin behind his usual pomposity.

Ten minutes later Fudge called Percy into his office, "Right then, Weatherby. Keep up the good work, I'm off for a Lunch meeting."

Percy picked up the completed paperwork, "Of course, Minister." As Percy returned to his desk he checked the time, _Eleven o'clock…for a lunch meeting._ Percy nodded to himself, and got back to work; resisting the urge to smile, but only just.

* * *

Two hours later, Percy headed down to the Ministry cafeteria. Even so, he wasn't about to waste a trip across the Ministry.

He stopped into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to drop off the 'Ministry Approved' signed confessions from the eleven Death Eaters, along with a request for a revised budget to be submitted to the Minister's office for approval.

Dhriti Rughani, Undersecretary to Director Bones, looked at the request that had been handed to her in confusion. "Begging your pardon, but didn't we just submit one of these?"

Percy looked around, then leaned in close, "You didn't hear this from me, but rumour has it that the Ministry is due for a substantial windfall, and I felt that the DMLE would like first crack at it." He smiled at her as her eyes widened in realisation.

"Do you know where it is coming from?"

"Sixteen Twelve. Section Twenty-Three point Four. Paragraphs Three through Nine." He tapped the pile of confessions on her desk for emphasis.

"You-Break-It-You-Bought-It? Oh. Well. I expect you have one of those for the Department of Mysteries as well then." She smiled, thinking how happy her boss was going to be in a week's time.

Percy smiled, and left without answering.

* * *

Percy slipped into the Department of Mysteries.

"Undersecretary Weasley."

Percy froze where he stood. "Junior Undersecretary."

"Indeed." There was a pause. "What can the Department of Mysteries do for the Minister today?" The harsh whispered voice made Percy's skin crawl.

Summoning up some of the fabled Gryffindor courage Percy replied, "The Minister's Office requests a full accounting of the damage caused during the Death Eater break in."

"A full accounting? To what end?"

Percy felt the tug of a truth compulsion, nothing so blatant as Veritaserum or Imperious, but difficult to bypass convincingly. _So, the truth then_. "The Minister's Office will be extracting the cost of restoring the damages to the Ministry according to the Magical Laws Act Sixteen Twelve, Section Twenty-Three point Four, Paragraphs Three through Nine." Percy smiled internally as he felt the compulsion withdraw. "Besides damage to the structure of the Department, surely the loss of irreplaceable prophecies, experimental experiments and priceless artefacts must add up to a significant sum."

The cloaked figure slid out of the shadows, nodded slowly, and took the paperwork from Percy. "You will have your accounting within the week."

* * *

Percy stopped by the broom closet-sized office of the severely under-funded Department of Literature and the Arts.

"Anyone in?"

A head appeared from behind a huge slab of green marble. "Oh, hullo Percy."

"Jacob. Is the Director in?"

"The 'Director' is still on holiday in the south of France."

"That's a shame."

"Why? What's happening?"

"Well if the Director was here, she could apply for funding to replace the damaged fountain in the Ministry foyer." Percy was sitting casually on his old friend's desk.

"Why can't maintenance repair it?"

"Oh, sure. Maintenance could repair it easily enough. But wasn't your director complaining about it just a couple of weeks ago? Now's her chance."

Jacob blinked in surprise. "You're right. But we'd never get enough fund…" Jacobs eyes narrowed at Percy. "We would get funding?"

"The right submission, at the right time, and worded the right way…" Percy got up to leave. "But sooner would be better for your department."

* * *

Percy opened the door to the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages. There were a half dozen people waiting in line, which Percy promptly ignored and walked past. Reaching the counter, he cleared his throat.

"End of the line please…Oh, sorry Undersecretary, on official business?" The clerk looked up from the paperwork he was filing.

"Afraid so Smythe. Death certificates to be processed. Rather bad business that." Percy withdrew a number of sheets of parchment from the briefcase he was carrying.

"Let me see." The clerk suddenly went very pale as he read the first few names. "M..M..Mal…Bloody Hell Percy!"

The people waiting behind him were looking on with more interest and less frustration.

Percy leant over the counter, lowering his voice, he hissed, "It would be a damn sight better for your future career prospects if you did not blurt out the contents of these certificates to a crowded office."

Wide frightened eyes looked up at Percy, "Un..un…understood." He proceeded to stamp the certificates and make copies for archives.

"I'll need copies of those for the DMLE and a couple of other departments."

"No problem." He worked in silence for a few minutes. "Done. This is a little irregular though…"

Percy interrupted him. "No. It's all by the book. Checked it twice myself and had Legal triple check it."

Smythe shook his head, "I don't even want to think about it."

"Pleasant day then." Percy looked then at the people waiting in line, "Terribly sorry about the interruption, Minister's business and all that." He smiled apologetically and left the office.

* * *

The Goblin Liaison Office was not much larger than the Department of Literature and the Arts, but had nicer furnishings. Mainly because the goblins couldn't stand dealing with humans in such a poverty stricken environment. Truth was, these days the Goblin Liaison Office carefully maintained a series of wards, glamours and illusions to hide the fact they had a nicer setup than the Minister.

Percy checked his timepiece just before entering, he had fifteen minutes to complete his business, acquire lunch, and get back to his desk before the Minister was due back from his 'Lunch Meeting'.

"Hello Percy, what brings the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic down to our humble little office?"

"That's Junior Undersecretary, and you damn well know it GB." Percy corrected with a faint smile.

"On your lunch break are you?" Undersecretary to the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, Charles Hardcock leant back in his chair and rang a bell to summon a house elf. "Lunch for two thank you Baldrick."

A house elf appeared, bowed and disappeared in an instant.

Percy sat down opposite GB. "You are correct, I am here on business. Magical Laws Act Sixteen Twelve, Section Twenty-Three point Four, Paragraphs Three through Nine."

"Really? Nothing like that has happened in over Seventy years. Not since Aberforth and his goats." He looked at Percy curiously, "How does that apply to our Office?"

Percy blinked, frowned, and thought about his associate's words for a few moments. "Ah. No, you're thinking Sixteen Twenty. Sixteen Twelve is the…"

"The damage to Ministry property remuneration clause. Of course. But again, how does that relate to us?"

"These are the Death Certificates for eleven known, convicted, and executed Death Eaters. Their Estates are going to be billed for the damages done to the Ministry during last month's little invasion. The Minister wants a freeze placed upon their assets until our Legal staff can get down to Gringotts with the paperwork."

Baldrick appeared with a faint _pop_ delivering a couple of rich heavy roast lamb sandwiches and a couple of cups of tea.

Helping himself to the sandwiches, GB looked Percy in the eye, "I assume you have all the relevant paperwork."

Percy swallowed the mouthful of rare roast lamb, "Just waiting on a full accounting of damages from the Department of Mysteries. Everything else you need is in this folder." Placing it on the table to the side of them both.

"Excellent." GB flipped open the folder to the first name on the list, "Oh, I say. Couldn't happen to a nicer fellow." He grinned and swallowed a mouthful of tea. "Yes, the goblins will be more than happy to take this lot down a peg or two."

"The Minister will be gratified to hear that."

"I'm sure he will be."

They both chuckled at that thought.

* * *

Percy arrived back at his desk with moments to spare. He settled into his seat, his belly full of fine roast lamb, and his heart filled with the satisfaction of a job well done. _Now to await the ramifications of these actions._ The clock on his desk struck two o'clock.

The Minister returned to his office ten minutes later. "Still hard at work Weatherby? Good show. I'll be taking a quick nap in my office, that was a heavy lunch…er…lunch meeting."

"Of course Minister. I'll hold your callers for a couple of hours then, shall I?"

"Just reschedule them, I'll probably have to head out this afternoon."

"Very well, Minister."

Fudge disappeared into his office. Percy buried himself in his paperwork…awaiting his next opportunity for action. _Stay tuned for the further adventures of Percy Weasley, Master Bureaucrat…hmmm, lacks something._ He chuckled quietly to himself and opened the next file.

* * *

**Lunch time, the day after the kidnappings.**

The six headed down to the back garden, Doc Mayfair claiming he would be down shortly after packing everything away.

Before them, on the carefully manicured lawn, was a banquet to rival the best Hogwarts ever served.

"Tuck in everyone, the others will join us in a little while," Harry smiled and took the seat at the head of the table, helping himself to the platter of roast beef before him.

Ron was the first to follow his lead, sitting to Harry's right. As Harry's best friend it was Ron's place to sit at Harry's right hand, just ask him.

Luna walked around the table and sat next to Harry, to his left. She figured she could keep Ron distracted and help Harry should conversation get a little uncomfortable, it also gave her an opportunity to engage in one of her favourite hobbies…Ron-watching.

Neville sat next to Luna. Even though Ron had bollixed it all by sitting next to Harry, proper seating arrangements called for an alternating boy/girl placement; he would save Harry the embarrassment of having to shuffle people around.

Ginny sat next to Neville. She wanted to ask him a couple of questions, but didn't want to embarrass him by shouting them across the table.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat next to Ron. It was the nearest available seat.

"All right Harry, what's going on?" Hermione hadn't touched the food yet, instead spending the time to closely observe her oldest friend. "We were attacked in broad daylight, kidnapped, and brought here. I want to know why."

"Um, I was feeling lonely?" Harry tried on the huge puppy dog eyes and quivering lip look, which might have worked when he was eleven…

There were chuckles all round, except from Hermione, whose eyes had narrowed.

"You could have just asked us to pop over for a visit. We would have…"

"And if Dumbledore had said you couldn't? Like he asked you to not send me any mail a year ago?"

"Truthfully? Dumbledore can go fuck himself…" Hermione's voice was filled with contempt for her subject matter.

Ron gasped, almost choking on a piece of chicken.

"…Sideways, with a halibut." She finished.

"No Hermione, tell us how you really feel," Neville quipped while helping support Ginny, who had almost fallen out of her chair laughing at Hermione's words.

Harry threw Hermione a look. It was in fact Oliver Wood's Patented Smouldering Look number Three; guaranteed to generate blushing cheeks, hardened nipples and dampened panties in witches everywhere. "I love it when you talk dirty," Harry purred.

Reactions around the table varied.

Ginny, already laughing her head of, finally fell off her chair. Neville just sat there shaking his head.

Hermione recognised Harry's attempt at Oliver Wood's Patented Smouldering Look number Three, but was thinking he got the eyebrows wrong.

Luna turned bright red, her eyes fixed on Ron.

Ron was shaking his head; _Wood has a lot to answer for._

"Now seriously, Harry…" Hermione started again.

"Right to the heart of the matter, huh?" Harry's playful mood suddenly evaporated. "Three days ago I was cooking dinner for the Dursleys."

Hermione kicked herself for her tactlessness, but was glad Harry was finally talking. The others sat up and started paying attention. Ron paid attention, but continued eating.

"I was standing at the kitchen sink, when I saw the light of an incoming Reducto curse. I leapt for cover as the entire wall was blown up. I hid in the Laundry while the Death Eaters burst in through the hole in the wall." Harry paused to take a sip of pumpkin juice. "They started torturing my relatives, and I was about to attack them from my hiding place when a woman started attacking them. I helped her and in moments we captured them all. The woman sent me to pack my trunk, having saved me from the Death Eaters I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. We left, travelling by portkey to London, where we stayed the night in a five star hotel, and she told me her story."

* * *

Holly watched out the window as the children sat down to eat. "How are they Doc?"

"I should be writing articles about these kids." He dumped his golf bag by the door and joined his old friend by the window.

"Meaning? Are they unfit?"

"On the contrary. Even Harry was unnaturally healthy considering his home life and…other factors."

Holly frowned. "Tell me everything, starting with the Seer."

The black doctor chuckled, "Luna Lovegood. Family history has an unusually high predisposition to Divination. Four of the last sixteen recorded True Seers were connected to this family line." He looked Holly in the eye, "That's worldwide stats, not just here in Britain. Luna herself is what we in the Medical profession refer to as a 'Broken Seer'. She has no control, her mind flitting from past to future with no point of reference. Unfortunately, neither muggle nor magical healing arts have yet come up with a means to give her the focus she needs. She will either learn to cope, or she will crack. Physically, she is as fit and healthy as one could hope for in a fifteen year old non-combatant."

"Funny." Holly's voice indicated her complete lack of humour. "Continue."

"Hermione Granger. Powerful for a muggleborn, but I'll come back to that later. The wound from the curse she suffered in the Ministry event is healing well and will heal quicker under direct care. Her sternum and a number of ribs were severed, the flesh and musculature was burned, surrounding tissue suffering third degree burns. Her lungs and heart suffered heat damage that those idiots down at St. Morons completely missed. The tissue has been regenerated and function restored. She'll be fine this time next week. Her academic record speaks for her intelligence, however, her physical condition bothers me."

"I am aware she is not the athletic sort, so what? I can train her up to standard."

"No, you misunderstand. Her physical condition rivals amateur athletes, and her reflexes and reaction times are off the chart." He grinned, "I've always said that Gryffindor girls have the best legs. Probably comes from living at the top of the castle and having to cart books up and down all those stairs." He looked serious again, "But that doesn't explain her reaction time."

Holly's eyebrows rose, "I noticed that too, but wrote it off as an adrenalin surge."

"I hardly think sitting on a chair while having a soft blue ball throw at you is enough to warrant an adrenalin surge." He smiled, "Besides, I used magic to check further. Her neural structures are two, perhaps three times longer than the average human. Also the cartilage along her spine shows evidence of her being a lot more flexible than is normal as well."

"Hows her eyesight?" Holly suddenly deadpanned.

"Perfect, high degree of low light adaptation is indicated. Why?"

"Something Harry mentioned about a polyjuice potion and cat hair in their second year. Could it have left residual magic this long?"

"That should have…Hang on. Ah. She didn't attend St. Morons for this, she was treated by the school nurse. Simple answer, her primary symptoms vanished, thus she was cured. A formally accredited Healer would have removed all of these symptoms." He placed Hermione's file aside, "More for you to play with I expect."

"It's a relief to hear that I haven't slowed down that much with age." She mock wiped the sweat from her brow, "Next?"

"Neville Longbottom. He is fit and healthy. He is resilient and agile. It's natural as well. This boy has been exercising at least an hour a day for years. Probably some form of martial skills as well from the calluses on his hands."

"Probably boxing."

"How was his form?"

"Not bad. Give him a few years of solid training and he could easily be a contender. In the heavyweight class too, if he's anything like Alice's dad."

"Mentally he's still a bit of a mess, but I think with a bit more confidence he could go places. On the down side there is still the residue of some form of memory charm playing havoc with his magic, but I'll come back to that."

"Frank and Alice?"

"Yep. Word is that Neville witnessed the leStrange's torturing his parents to insanity. Some idiot must have decided to throw on a quick fix to shut the child up. Later observers would have seen a slow, but otherwise happy child. No need to fix what isn't broke. Bastards."

"Right. Well, we'll see what we can do about all of that."

"And on to Molly's spawn. Ronald Weasley. And for the record I can't believe she's seeing another Doctor."

"Get on with it."

"Quidditch calluses. Normal non-combatant. Appetite of a horse, and a rather interesting series of recently healed scars on his arms, neck and upper torso."

"Don't make me guess."

"From what I was able to find something tore into him, burrowing into his flesh until it reached his neural network. Which would explain the EEG readings I got off him."

"He's been possessed?"

"Not from what I can see, but his neural activity has definitely changed. That is not a sixteen-year-olds brain activity. It's more like a seventy or eighty-year-old scholars brain chemistry. Or at least it seems to be settling into that sort of pattern."

"He was attacked by some weird brain thing in the Department of Mysteries…"

"Then we'll just have to monitor any side effects it has and inform them of it later. Now Ginevra, on the other hand, is something else entirely."

Holly glanced out the window at the children.

"Ginevra suffered an extreme power drain for an extended period of time, during her formative years. Then appears to have suffered a backlash when the drain finally ceased."

"Meaning?"

"Think of it in terms of a muscle, her magical muscle was exercised to breaking point continuously for most of a year causing it to grow stronger. Then at the end, it copped a massive shot of anabolic steroids." He checked his file, "It appears to have bled out into her body somewhat, enhancing her fitness, reflexes and the density of her skeleto-muscular system. Which brings us to Harry."

"There's a correlation?"

"Of course. Harry's magical core has been suffering a similar drain, as near as I can figure, for the majority of his life."

"Bloody Voldemort. Is the drain continuing?"

"No. Something happened in the recent past, maybe a year ago, which has resulted in a cessation to the draining. Same result though, without that continuous drain, Harry now has greater reserves of power at his disposal, and like Ginevra, a certain amount of that power has bled off into his body. Keeping him alive through situations and conditions that would have broken a lesser wizard."

"So the short version is, he is a little faster and tougher than an average wizard. Anything else?"

"Nothing major. His blood is the most virulent biotoxin I have ever encountered. His magic apparently keeps it dormant until it is extracted from him."

"Would that be Basilisk venom? Harry was bitten by one in his second year."

"That would probably do it, except the toxin I withdrew from him was fresh. I'll have to check later with better equipment. His body may be generating it as a defensive measure."

"Bit extreme that?"

"Not really, it's a new theory out of Australia. Wizards and witches bodies and magical cores kind of act like 'evolution' isn't this huge impersonal force of history, but instead for them it is a more immediate and personal thing. The stronger the core, the faster and more extreme the change. Every time the magical body or core learns a new trick, it immediately applies it permanently. Have you checked his healing rate? Unusually fast."

"He was once healed by the tears of a phoenix."

"Damn, the implications of that. Damn."

"Anything else? Right, you have mentioned power levels and the children's magical cores several times. Explain."

"Short version. Luna, Hermione, Ronald, yourself, Ginevra, Neville, the brothers Dumbledore, and finally Harry."

"Huh? Try the long version."

"Have you heard of something called a Kirlian Aura Camera?"

"Off topic much?" She nodded, "Yeah, hippies were waving them around in the Sixties."

"Right, well I tinkered with one, applied a couple of charms and had a friend work on it for a bit. Short version is I got the damn thing to work. I can photograph a wizards magical aura."

"And?"

"And. Here are photos of all the above-mentioned worthies. The size and strength of the respective auras easily sorted. As a benchmark Florean Fortesque, pictured here, is about on par with both Tom from the Leaky Cauldron and Stan Shunpike from the Knight Bus. All are somewhat magically weaker than Luna."

"Why are you still a doctor?"

"I refused to submit to the oath required by the Department of Mysteries, and I don't like bureaucracy."

She shook her head, "I think the kids have had enough time to talk, time to go scare them."

He sprung a startlingly white toothy smile, "You're just asking for another beating, aren't you? Remember, this time they outnumber you substantially."

She growled something unprintable and swung her cloak about her shoulders, leaving the still chuckling black doctor to collect his golf bag.

* * *

Ginny had been listening to Harry's story, when she realised that he had sidestepped no less than three direct and a half dozen indirect or hinted queries as to the actual identity of his saviour. _Something odd here._

Hermione, apparently coming to the same conclusion, stood up. "Harry. I'm not listening to another word unless it is you directly telling us who she is."

"Come on Harry. What is this all about anyway? You still haven't answered the original question. Why were we attacked? Why were we brought here?" Ginny stood up as well, offering her support to Hermione.

The others looked at them, and then everyone turned to stare at Harry.

Harry was focused on a point beyond them all.

"You are here because I brought you here." A strong female voice startled them all.

They spun to face the direction Harry had been looking in. A woman in dark blue robes, with cowl pulled up had stepped out of the house and was striding towards them.

All of the five recognised the woman who had attacked them. As one the rest rose to their feet and were about to step away from the table when she drew a wand.

"Please do be seated. I would prefer to not have to use this." She gestured with her free hand. "If you would be patient I will explain everything."

The five sat, still watching her, as she took the chair at the other end of the table opposite Harry.

Moments later Doc Mayfair joined them, sitting at the woman's right hand.

Harry spoke up, "I have told my friends the events of the last few days, but left the big scary revelations for you." He chuckled.

"The easiest way to deal with this is…" She drew back her cowl, revealing her face and waves of rich crimson hair. She looked at the group with glittering emerald eyes.

Both Ron and Hermione gasped in recognition.

Ginny couldn't help blurting out a shocked, "Merlin's Great Greasy Gonads! You're dead!"

A pained look briefly crossed her features. "No, Lily was my sister. I am Holly Evans, Harry's aunt."

"How do we know you aren't some Death Eater trick?" Ron challenged.

"Her identity was proven to the satisfaction of Gringotts," Harry interjected.

"Then where in Merlin's name were you all those years that Harry needed you?" Ron rounded on her savagely.

"I was living another person's life, the victim of a memory charm," She snapped back, pain and remorse shining from her eyes.

Everyone sat quietly for a few minutes, thinking.

"Why did you attack us? Why not just ask us to visit?" Ginny asked, "And more specifically, why did you trash the Burrow? Mum's going to skin you when she catches up with you."

"Hardly. Though I may suffer a few bruised ribs," she almost chuckled at the thought, the sparkle of humour back in her eyes. "I went to Hogwarts with Molly and Arthur. Frank and Alice as well. Your Grandmother is a lot more sensible with her floo wards than Arthur, which is why I had to tackle you from St Mungo's, Neville."

Neville looked up thoughtfully, "You were testing us."

"I was?" She raised an eyebrow.

"She was?" Hermione looked at Neville.

"Yes. You were testing us to what? See if we were worthy of being Harry's friends?" Neville's voice was heavy with scorn.

"I was indeed testing you, to judge your worthiness for Hit Wizard training." She finished, a definite ring of challenge to her voice.

The five sat back stunned by that revelation.

"I take it they all passed?" Harry asked.

"All it takes is a wand and a couple of books to make a poor wizard. Half a decade of study at Hogwarts renders them into an adequate wizard. Two more years of intensive study creates an average wizard." She took a sip of the goblet in front of her. "Advanced training, such as that provided by the Auror Academy can build good wizards. But for the rarest of rare few is the opportunity to become truly great."

All six were watching her with their whole attention; even Ron had ceased eating.

"By the rare interaction of power, skill, natural talent and accidents of fate; you all have the opportunity to become the greatest witches and wizards of the age. I can help you on your path."

"Why should we accept your help?" Neville asked.

"You have enemies. The Death Eaters and their leader are going to kill you. At the level of training you have received at Hogwarts, the next time you meet Voldemort, you will die. He will kill you soon, rather than risk allowing you to achieve your magical majorities at the age of seventeen." She looked each of them in the eye, "The training I am offering will equip you to deal with your enemies. Once and for all."

"How long will it take? This training? Will we have to take time away from Hogwarts?" Hermione spoke slowly, her thoughts racing.

"I can spare about a year and a half to train Harry and his friends," Holly said with a grin. "The training will be intensive, ten to fourteen hours a day, six to seven days a week."

"That's inhuman," Ron muttered.

"That will result in you being more than equal to the best the other side has to offer," Holly looked at Neville, "Bellatrix leStrange is no Hit Witch. With the majority of Voldemort's inner circle gone, the next batch has had to step up to the mark. He will have to train them himself, and that takes time. Time we can deny him…if we act now."

Neville looked at Harry. "Do you really trust her?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm in."

Ron and Ginny shared a look, both nodding. "We're in."

"I was always going to be." Luna said. "It's why I came."

Hermione stared at Harry for a few more moments, "Can we contact our families and tell them we are safe?"

"The less people who know where we are and what we are doing, the safer we will all be, particularly during training." Holly said quietly.

"My parents are muggles. No one will have told them anything, and they have no avenue for inquiry with the Ministry. They'll be worried sick."

Holly thought for a few moments, "One letter straight away, and then one per month of training. No details, and no mention of me. I also insist that I be allowed to charm the letters to self erase after a single reading, and only be legible to members of your blood family."

Hermione nodded, "When are you returning our wands?"

"I snapped your wands."

All five teens flinched.

"The Ministry monitors the magical signature of those wands. More to the point, you can far too readily be traced through them. We will be travelling to see an old…associate of mine, to get Masterwork wands crafted for each of you."

"What about Hogwarts? What about our NEWTs and OWLs?" Hermione asked.

Holly nodded to Harry, who took the Time Turner on its chain out of his shirt, showing them all.

"Time Turners are restricted items," Hermione glared at Harry.

"That is the most powerful Time Turner currently in circulation. Its creation was never registered. We have more than enough time to complete our training and have a little holiday before September first." Holly said fatter-of-factly.

"…" Hermione opened her mouth to ask a question, but was interrupted by Harry.

"Yes, we have access to a very substantial library, and training equipment and anything else we might need." He tucked the Time Turner back into his shirt, "Yes we have thought this over."

She looked at Harry once more, "You have a house elf?"

Harry grinned, "Of course, I own this entire manor. How else could I maintain it?"

"But…" Hermione stood up.

Harry clapped his hands sharply twice. _Pop. Pop._ Two house elves appeared. One was dressed in a diminutive butlers livery, the other in a spotlessly neat conservative maids uniform. "You remember Dobby and Winky, do you not?"

The curious and thoughtful expressions on the faces of the two, quite dignified, house elves were quite a contrast with their appearances the last time the five had seen them.

"You bonded them then, Harry?" Neville was observing the two elves with an experienced eye.

Hermione looked like she was building up to a full-blown rant.

Harry quickly cut in, "They were miserable at Hogwarts, Winky was in fact drinking herself to death. I pay them a wage, and have given them a uniform to be proud of. They insisted on the bond, and I think we have both benefited."

Hermione sat down heavily. "I don't like the idea of House Elf slavery."

"I am more than aware of that." Harry said quietly.

"I'm in. I cannot imagine making it through all we have, only to abandon you now." She shook her head, and then looked to Holly. "Where do we go from here?"

Holly smiled, "First we finish this delicious meal that Dobby and Winky have made for us. Then you each write a letter to whoever you wish to contact, then we go for a weeks holiday in Italy."

Ginny blinked in confusion, "Holiday in Italy? What? Why?"

Harry chuckled, "The wand maker is in Italy. We will need a week for him to finish crafting the wands."

They settled into lunch and small talk, mostly questions about details of Holly's history, which quickly devolved into amusing anecdotes from her Hogwarts years with Neville, Ron and Ginny's parents.

* * *

Author Note: Had a whole heap done for Forgotten Shards, when suddenly the computer crashed. Taking with it an hours writing. Ballocks. I'll get around to updating it when I can remember what I wrote... 


	9. Chapter 9

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Chapter 9.**

**The morning after the kidnappings.**

Most of the Weasley clan were gathered in the kitchen, trying to block out the tormented screams coming from the ruins of the lounge room.

In the lounge room, Mundungus Fletcher, locked in the grip of a Body Bind spell to prevent him injuring himself, still attempted to thrash around in agony. Flecks of foam edged his lips, his eyes wide and blank as he perceived his innermost nightmares, a lifetime of failures, and fought to come to terms with them.

"For the record once again. I simply cannot believe the situation to be so dire for him to try something so foolish." Madame Pomphrey frowned down at the twitching form of Fletcher. "That he wanted to do so with no medical supervision just makes it worse. In all my days," She humphed, before casting another diagnostic charm, frowning at the results, "Well, it isn't killing him yet."

Arthur, holding one of Fletchers hands in his own, frowned and nodded. "He does believe it to be this dire. He doesn't want to live if this doesn't work Poppy. You know what he used to be like. He just can't live with failing those important to him."

In the kitchen, Molly had forgone any attempt at cooking and was sitting at the kitchen table, clutching a mug of tea, tears rolling down her face.

"Don't worry Mum, he'll be all right," Bill reassured, placing a fresh cup in front of his mother and sliding her untouched cold cup out of her grasp.

* * *

**After lunch.**

After the long lunch, the six teens retired to the manor to write their letters home.

Luna sat in her bedroom's window seat, staring absently out at the grounds while her hand seemed to do it's own thing.

_Dearest Daddy,_

_I was right, and I am visiting with my friends, probably for the rest of the holidays. _

_I heard today that Minister Fudge is, in fact, a Nargle herder, and my source is good._

_I will keep you up to date if I hear anything more._

_Your daughter,_

_Luna._

p.s. Don't forget to remind Auror Shacklebolt to safely store his Fried Turkey Club paraphernalia. You never know who is going to wander into your house when you're not looking.

* * *

Ron and Ginny were in his room. Ginny at the table writing their letter, while Ron lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. 

"So how do we phrase this so that Mum doesn't have a heart attack or kill us when we return, but still doesn't reveal anything about Holly or what is going on?" Ginny asked.

"You're asking me?" Ron raised himself onto one elbow to look at her.

"No, flobber worms for brains, it was a rhetorical question. Though I wouldn't mind a little help here."

"Okay. Start with 'Dear Mum and Dad'," Ron looked thoughtful.

"How does Hermione resist hexing you to oblivion through the year?" Ginny shook her head and continued writing.

"Beats me. Now write 'Did the Cannons win their game?'" Ron nodded to himself.

"They never win, Ron, and I think our parents are going to be a little more concerned about us than about your loser team." Ginny sounded a little exasperated.

"Just add it. Mum will read it and know that we are all right. If we're thinking about Quidditch, then we probably aren't hurt or being compelled to write."

Ginny just blinked dumbly at her brother for a few moments, wrote something into the letter, and then turned back to Ron. "I hate you." She resumed writing.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Sorry to have scared you, both Ron and I are fine. We have no injuries and are in perfect health._

_We will not be returning home until the end of the holidays, as we are safe and under the protection of an ally of Harry's._

_Yes. Harry is here with us. He is looking better than we have ever seen him, and he seems to be coping with his Godfather's death pretty well also. _

_Ron just asked me to write 'Did the Cannons win their game?' since we both slept through it._

_I'll write again soon, and possibly even get lazybones to write._

_With love,_

Ginny. (and Ron).

* * *

Neville sat in his room considering the parchment in front of him pensively. 

_Uncle Algernon,_

_I would greatly appreciate it if you would pass on my sincerest apologies to my grandmother for breaking her Vases. Their sacrifice served the House of Longbottom well._

_Also pass on my assurance that I am well and under no compulsion to make this communication. _

_I am pleased to say that I remembered well your lessons and I believe I acquitted myself well in this last engagement, woefully underequipped as I was. Not a mistake I will ever allow myself to make again._

_I look forward to seeing you at my Home at the end of August._

_Neville Longbottom._

Neville considered the letter once more, and began adding subtle embellishments and 'random' splotches of ink, encoding additional messages for his teacher's eyes only.

_Uncle Algernon,_

_I would greatly appreciate it if you would pass on my sincerest apologies to my grandmother for breaking her Vases. _(sodding ugly things)_ Their sacrifice served the House of_ _Longbottom well._

_Also pass on my assurance that I am well _(truth)_ and under no compulsion_ (truth)_ to make this communication. _

_I am pleased to say that I remembered well your lessons_ (i have begun lessons once more)_ and I believe I acquitted myself well in this last engagement, woefully under-equipped as I was. Not a mistake I will ever allow myself to make again._(truth)

_I look forward to seeing you at my Home at the end of August._ (i should be back by then)

_Neville Longbottom._

The Longbottom heir considered the final draft for a few moments while the ink dried. Nodded to himself in satisfaction, and placed it aside.

* * *

Hermione was hiding in the Library, mentally reshaping her letter into a suitable form. 

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Stop trying to find me. I'm in hiding in the other world. I am safe. Harry is here with me._

_Don't worry about my injuries; Harry had a Diagnostician see me. Can you believe those idiots at St. Mungo's missed the damage to my heart and lungs? Neither could I. It has been seen to now and a full recovery is indicated._

_The Doc is quite a character. When I first saw him, he appeared, doctors' bag in one hand and golf bag over the other shoulder looking like he'd just stepped off of St. Andrews. If there was ever a stereotype of a British Doctor, this is it._

_I will be unable to make it back until late August, so I am asking you to go on holiday without me. It will be safer for you. Our home address is in my file in the Ministry, and I find myself distrustful of their vigilance and almost complete lack of even basic security measures. Seriously, if a group of teenagers can penetrate their most secure areas, something is very wrong. __I do hate to say it, but you might be better off staying out of the Country for the next few months. You know how I worry._

_If my OWL results turn up, I would like you to sign me up for everything I possibly can, you know my priorities._

_Speaking of owls. Could you send Hedwig to the Weasley's. They will take care of her while we are all gone. Send a note with her asking them to owl you if any new information arises._

_Give Crookshanks a cuddle for me, and don't forget to pack the snowboard, you know Daddy will probably break his arm and have to rent again._

_With love and missing you,_

_Hermione._

Hermione handed the finished letter to Holly who quickly scanned it.

"Diagnostician?" She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"It's a kind of muggle doctor, only the finest medical minds become diagnosticians; its meant to reassure my parents that the Doc is competent," Hermione huffed.

Holly shrugged, "Fair enough. I've set up a post box for incoming owls though. They won't receive any mail directed to you."

"It doesn't matter. It will reassure them I'm fine, my ongoing education is still foremost in my mind." Hermione waved off the concern.

* * *

Harry chuckled evilly as he dipped his quill into the special black ink, sobering as he considered his first words. 

_Dearest Nymphadora,_

_I share your loss. Sirius was close to me, and I think we will all grieve his passing._

_Bringing us to the point of this letter._

_Though I have yet to find time to visit our ancestral home to restore your family to it's proper place within the Ancient and Noble House of Black; I would ask a single favour of you._

_Another who is close to us grieves for Sirius as greatly as we do. I speak of Remus Lupin, brother in all but blood to our own Sirius._

_I would ask that you find him and perhaps help him past these days. Perhaps you could drag him off to Madame Malkin's to spend some of Sirius' bequest._

_My thanks, and know you have the regard of,_

Lord Black.

Harry sniffled a little, chuckled again at her name, and sealed it with his signet ring, before turning to another sheet of parchment.

_Dearest Narcissa,_

_It grieves me to be the bearer of ill tidings. Our cousin, Sirius, is dead._

_With his passing, the mantle of leadership has fallen unto me._

_In the process of clearing up old business left…neglected…I came upon a few minor irregularities with our contract with House Malfoy. Perhaps you could clear them up for me…unofficially…lest I be required to bring it all out in public._

_Clause 14a states quite clearly that as a member of House Black, it is expected that Lord Malfoy will support you in a lifestyle befitting your status in our society. With his recent arrest, it is difficult to believe Lord Malfoy can be maintaining you as he should._

_Clause 17c-f implies rather…forcefully…that neither House would bring disrepute to the other, and yet I cannot help but feel that the actions of Lord Malfoy reflect rather poorly upon you, dearest cousin, and upon the Ancient and Noble House Black._

_Am I wrong? _

_I eagerly await your reply._

_I remain,_

_Lord Black._

Once more, sealing the letter with the Black signet, and taking out a sheet of red parchment. This time, though, he put aside the enchanted quill and picked up a regular quill.

_Dumbledore,_

_You can call off the search. I am safe and in hiding. Seeking us out can only expose your people to further danger, and potentially expose my hiding place._

_Not that I expect you to pay one whit of attention to what I am saying. You know best of course._

_Ballocks._

_You have never paid any attention to anything but your own narcissistic delusions of competence._

_I have paid for professional security advice from the best in the business. They know as much about keeping folk safe and secure as you do about…_

…_What the hell is it that you do know about anyway? You head the Wizengamot, but still a fifteen-year-old child faces a full court over Underage Magic Use. You're the headmaster of a school where children all but wage open warfare in the halls and serious injuries are commonplace. You lead a vigilante militia against all Dark Lords, but totally failed to do anything about it, and had to get bailed out by a one-year-old baby._

_You know what? Forget it. I'm not even angry with you anymore._

_All I'm asking at this point is that you respect this one request from me. __**Don't come after me**_

I will return in time for my sixth year at Hogwarts, and you can get everyone all panicky about protecting me then.

Until then, I remain,

Harry Potter.

Lord of House Potter.

Harry sealed the Howler with the seal of House Potter and handed it to Dobby, who activated the enchantment in the red paper, before returning it to Harry. They both looked up as Holly entered.

"Well?" Harry inquired.

"I think Neville has some kind of secret code involving ink splots, and Hermione is trying to get something past me, but my Legilimancy is a little rusty." She shrugged.

"Is it going to matter?" Harry appeared concerned.

"Not once we start using the turner. The space/time flux will scramble any chance they have of tracking us down." She took the small stack of correspondence from him and turned to leave, a slight smirk on her face as she noted the address on the Howler. "We depart after dinner."

* * *

That evening the six teens gathered around Holly in the garden of the estate where they had only recently had lunch. 

"Give me a call when you return from your week on the beach, I'll want to check on all your progress. Particularly you Miss Granger." The doctor's cheerful voice breaking the gathering tension.

Holly nodded, and held her hand out to Harry. "Not a problem Doc. Harry when you are ready, one week please."

The other students clasped hands and drew close as Harry and Hermione activated the Time Turner.

* * *

Space and time rippled around them as they flashed a week into the past.

* * *

Holly was the first to react when reality stabilised around them. "Right, a few minutes rest to let our chronal fields adjust, then we portkey to Italy." 

"Our what'al fields?" Ron asked

"She means our magic has to settle down after jumping back in time before we can portkey," Hermione supplied.

"Well why didn't she say so?"

Harry, Ginny and Neville rolled their eyes as it appeared the latest Hermione/Ron fight was about to erupt.

Luna intervened, "She did Ron, but she used the muggle words for it."

"I guess that makes sense then."

He might have gone on, and Hermione might have recovered from being so swiftly cut off by Luna, but at that point Holly spoke up.

"Time to go, everyone grab hold. Harry, if you would."

Harry drew his wand, grinning at the shocked gasps of his friends, and tapped the portkey; whisking them all away from England in a sudden burst of light.

* * *

**Author Note:**

Goddess, this one took me a while.

As it stands, I had to get Finbar to write most of the Mundungus scene…damned writers block.

Don't know when the next chapter will come, my 5 month old daughter is taking up a lot of my time lately.


	10. Chapter 10

Only the twisted, deviant plot and a few other odds and ends are mine. The rest belongs to someone else. If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

* * *

**Chapter 10.**

**Morning, two days after the kidnapping.**

A nondescript owl swept into the Swedish Ministry's Convention Centre, dodging the spells of the Louisiana contingent, before dropping a rolled scroll onto Philip Lovegood's lap.

_Dearest Daddy,_

_I was right, and I am visiting with my friends, probably for the rest of the holidays. _

_I heard today that Minister Fudge is, in fact, a Nargle herder, and my source is good._

_I will keep you up to date if I hear anything more._

_Your daughter,_

_Luna._

p.s. Don't forget to remind Auror Shacklebolt to safely store his Fried Turkey Club paraphernalia. You never know who is going to wander into your house when you're not looking.

Philip blinked and turned to his note keeping scroll, "Minister of Magic, England, Cornelius Fudge is a Nargle herder – investigate: what is a nargle? what benefit accrues from the herding of them?" He chuckled and headed off in search of a Floo.

Minutes later, he was standing before a public floo, "Auror Shacklebolt, DMLE Britain."

A head appeared in the flames, "Shacklebolt here."

The journalist nodded, "Thank you for answering, Auror Shacklebolt. I am Philip Lovegood."

"Lovegood? Philip Lovegood? Luna's father?"

"Indeed."

"We've been trying to get hold of you for a while. Your daughter, Luna, was assaulted in the Quibbler offices and kidnapped. We have been unable to track her."

"Ah, that sounds about right."

"Say what?"

"I just received a communication from her. She's fine, and actually included a message for you."

Kingsley blinked a couple of times.

"She said 'remind him to safely store his fried turkey club paraphernalia. You never know who is going to wander into your house when you're not looking'." Philip had his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Kingsley froze, "I see. Well thanks, but I've got a busy schedule here. We'll get back to you when we learn something." He cut off the floo connection, and immediately opened a new one to his home, stepping through he rushed to her kitchen table and started scooping up his Order of the Phoenix equipment. "Shit, shit, shit, shit…"

He had only just escaped into his bedroom when his floo burst into life again.

"Auror Shacklebolt? Minister Fudge sent me to bring you in for a briefing," Dawlish called out to the empty room.

"Be right there," Quickly slamming the bedroom door behind him, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt wiped his sweaty brow…_close call, too close_…

* * *

An aura of hopelessness pervaded the Burrow. Two days had passed without word from the children, and to make matters worse, despite Arthur and Poppy's vigil Mundungus was slipping away. 

Molly was half-heartedly preparing breakfast when a strange owl tapped at the window. Hope surged into her eyes and face as Percy retrieved the owl's burden.

The owl, having done its duty, swiftly vanished into the morning sky.

"Is it?" Molly asked tentatively.

Percy glanced at the message, giving his mother a relieved grin. "Yes," he called out, "Dad, William, Frederick, George? A letter from Ginevra and Ronal..." He never got to finish the sentence, as his brothers and father raced into the room, Bill snatching the letter from his hands, and sheepishly handing it on to their father.

Arthur cleared his throat and read,

"_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Sorry to have scared you, both Ron and I are fine. We have no injuries and are in perfect health._

_We will not be returning home until the end of the holidays, as we are safe and under the protection of an ally of Harry's._

_Yes. Harry is here with us. He is looking better than we have ever seen him, and he seems to be coping with his Godfather's death pretty well also. _

_Ron just asked me to write 'Did the Cannons win their game?' since we both slept through it._

_I'll write again soon, and possibly even get lazybones to write._

_With love,_

_Ginny. (and Ron)_."

Relief filled the room. Molly almost collapsed, but was caught by Bill and George.

"We should show this to Albus," Arthur looked at the letter again, and was surprised to find it blank. He waved it at his family. "Security charms, well beyond the ability of the children. Bill?"

Bill took out his wand and cast several diagnostic charms. "Blood charm, and self erasure. Only we could read it, and it disappears after a single reading. Very professionally cast too."

The twins were also examining it. "We found" "mention of" "something like" "this in a book" "at Sirius' place" "a while back." They looked thoughtful for a moment, "A note" "in a diary" "about Sirius" "being unable" "to read the" "letters James" "and Lilly" "were passing" "back and forth."

Molly could only stare at her husband, "Are they safe? Are my babies safe?"

"They were allowed to send us a letter, and Ronald wanted to know about his beloved Cannons. I doubt they would have added that if they were being forced to write a letter to us," Percy spoke thoughtfully."So I expect they are safe at the present, and under the protection of Harry's ally."

The family settled down to breakfast with a lot more energy and hope.

* * *

Algernon Croaker, dressed formally for breakfast, arrived exactly on time at Augusta's table. "Good morning, dear Lady." He bowed. "I noticed the absence of the Mings." 

"Indeed, and a fair morning it is. Young Neville engaged an intruder in the hall, the vases are the least of our losses that morning." Dame Longbottom took her place at the table.

"No word of Neville then?" Algernon sat, helping himself to the morning spread.

"I am afraid not."

Both were interrupted by the arrival of an owl. Augusta raised an eyebrow. Algernon frowned and relieved the bird of it's message.

"Ah, quite timely." He glanced past the letter to the old matriarch, "Neville has managed to send word to me. A coded letter, as I taught him."

"What does he have to say for himself?"

"_Uncle Algernon,_

_I would greatly appreciate it if you would pass on my sincerest apologies to my grandmother for breaking her Vases. Their sacrifice served the House of Longbottom well._

_Also pass on my assurance that I am well and under no compulsion to make this communication. _

_I am pleased to say that I remembered well your lessons and I believe I acquitted myself well in this last engagement, woefully underequipped as I was. Not a mistake I will ever allow myself to make again._

_I look forward to seeing you at my Home at the end of August._

_Neville Longbottom._" Algernon smiled, "It is coded in the correct manner, he was under no coercion to write to us."

"It would seem that we made the correct decision all those years ago, having Neville instructed in the gentlemanly arts of spycraft and pugilism," Augusta commented before sipping her tea once more.

"Do you think the Potter boy is involved in this."

"The Aurors indicated these abductions may be connected."

Algernon raised his eyebrows, "Interesting. It would appear that the letter had some very advanced security charms, it is blank and unrecoverable."

"Reassuring, I think." The matriarch sipped her tea once more.

"Aye."

* * *

Doctors Dan and Jane Granger were startled awake in the early morning by a scratching at their window. 

"An owl?" Jane rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

"Do you suppose someone has finally decided to tell us mere muggles what is going on?" Dan grumped as he left the warm bed to let the owl in.

The owl sneered at him, dropped the letter, and flew away.

Dan just stood there blinking, "That owl just sneered at me, I swear it. Even their animals show us no respect." He picked up the letter off the ground, and returned to bed before opening it."Honey!" He elbowed his wife.

"What is it?" She stared blearily at her husband.

"It's Hermione."

"Hermione? Read it."

"She writes: _Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Stop trying to find me. I'm in hiding in the other world. I am safe. Harry is here with me._

_Don't worry about my injuries; Harry had a Diagnostician see me. Can you believe those idiots at St. Mungo's missed the damage to my heart and lungs? Neither could I. It has been seen to now and a full recovery is indicated._

_The Doc is q__uite a character. When I first saw him, he appeared, doctors' bag in one hand and golf bag over the other shoulder looking like he'd just stepped off of St. Andrews. If there was ever a stereotype of a British Doctor, this is it._

_I will be unable to make it back until late August, so I am asking you to go on holiday without me. It will be safer for you. Our home address is in my file in the Ministry, and I find myself distrustful of their vigilance and almost complete lack of even basic security measures. Seriously, if a group of teenagers can penetrate their most secure areas, something is very wrong. I do hate to say it, but you might be better off staying out of the Country for the next few months. You know how I worry._

_If my OWL results turn up, I would like you to sign me up for everything I possibly can, you know my priorities._

_Speaking of owls. Could you send Hedwig to the Weasley's. They will take care of her while we are all gone. Send a note with her asking them to owl you if any new information arises._

_Give Crookshanks a cuddle for me, and don't forget to pack the snowboard, you know Daddy will probably break his arm and have to rent again._

_With love and missing you,_

_Hermione_."

"The text is disappearing." Jane grabbed a notepad from her drawer.

"Odd, she knows we were planning a Mediterranean cruise. Why would she mention the snowboard?" Dan tapped his chin with a finger, "Some sort of code?"

"She must have known her letter would be read by whoever she is with," Jane quickly copied the note from memory."Thus the cryptic."

"She's with Harry," Dan glanced over his wife's shoulder at the notepad. "The Potter boy?"

"I think she's soft on him," Jane chuckled, relieved at hearing from her daughter. "Diagnostician. St. Andrews."

"Definately a British doctor." He narrowed his eyes, "She hates stereotypes."

"So probably not caucasian then, an Asian or African," She nodded, making further notes on the pad. "Distrust the Ministry. Unusual for our authority loving daughter."

"Could be from the subcontinent? I suspect recent events may have cracked her illusions." Dan nodded sadly, "I suggest we keep to our plans though. It might well be safer out of the country."

"We could move to your aunt's apartment for the next few months. Conduct the search from there."

"Hmmm...the owl never turned up. It's going to be a little hard to contact the Weasley's without one."

"We could just bite the bullet and buy one in Diagon Alley."

Dan snorted, "Presuming we could find the entrance without Hermione to guide us in."

"Forgot about that. Diagnostician. Hyperbole? Or do you suppose he actually was one?" She tapped her pen on the page beside the word.

"If he is, then it narrows the field of possible candidates down to a dozen or so."

"Particularly if he does hold a membership at St. Andrews."

Dan smirked a little. "Our Daughter, it seems, has been reading my Ian Flemmings. A non Caucasian Diagnostician who plays golf? We'd be lucky to have two in the country! Bravo to her."

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks woke up to an insistent tapping at her window. She rolled out of bed, immediately crashing into a pile of boxes with a dull thump. 

"Dora? Are you all right up there?" Andromeda called from the kitchen below.

"Ouch." She stood up, "I'm fine, Mum." She retrieved the letter from the owl. "Grrr...I'll give them 'Dearest Nymphadora'."

_Dearest Nymphadora,_

_I share your loss. Sirius was close to me, and I think we will all grieve his passing._

_Bringing us to the point of this letter._

_Though I have yet to find time to visit our ancestral home to restore your family to it's proper place within the Ancient and Noble House of Black; I would ask a single favour of you._

_Another who is close to us grieves for Sirius as greatly as we do. I speak of Remus Lupin, brother in all but blood to our own Sirius._

_I would ask that you find him and perhaps help him past these days. Perhaps you could drag him off to Madame Malkin's to spend some of Sirius' bequest._

_My thanks, and know you have the regard of,_

Lord Black.

"MUM?" Nymphadora's face had bleached white.

Entering her daughter's room, Andromeda was shocked to see her stark white complexion. "Dora? What is the matter?"

Colour returned to her face, "There's a new Lord Black."

"Oh dear." She sat rather heavily on the bed, "What did he want of us? We were already cast out."

"I think he's bringing us back in."

Andromeda frowned, "I'm not sure that isn't worse."

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was enjoying a quiet breakfast, alone. Which was the way she preferred it. 

One of her house elves discretely placed a letter beside her plate.

A letter bearing the Seal of House Black. How curious.

She cracked open the seal, feeling the tingle of recognition for the first time in many years. "Well, well, well."

_Dearest Narcissa,_

_It grieves me to be the bearer of ill tidings. Our cousin, Sirius, is dead._

_With his passing, the mantle of leadership has fallen unto me._

_In the process of clearing up old business left…neglected…I came upon a few minor irregularities with our contract with House Malfoy. Perhaps you could clear them up for me…unofficially…lest I be required to bring it all out in public._

_Clause 14a states quite clearly that as a member of House Black, it is expected that Lord Malfoy will support you in a lifestyle befitting your status in our society. With his recent arrest, it is difficult to believe Lord Malfoy can be maintaining you as he should._

_Clause 17c-f implies rather…forcefully…that neither House would bring disrepute to the other, and yet I cannot help but feel that the actions of Lord Malfoy reflect rather poorly upon you, dearest cousin, and upon the Ancient and Noble House Black._

_Am I wrong? _

_I eagerly await your reply._

_I remain,_

_Lord Black_.

Her face paled momentarily, then a sigh of resignation. She nodded, _The new Lord Black wastes no time flexing his muscles. Damn his eyes. I cannot dispute this either, Lucius was fast becoming a liability, and his son is no better._

She collected herself and called for her writing desk to be brought out into the garden.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a quiet breakfast with his brother, when It arrived. An already smoking red letter was dropped into his lap by a rapidly retreating owl. 

"So, what does Molly have to say this morning?" Aberforth chuckled.

"It would appear that the esteemed Mistress Weasley is not the sender," Albus held up the red envelope to show the Seal of House Potter.

"The Potter boy? Well, let's hear it." Aberforth waved his hand.

The letter unfolded and began speaking in a quiet but intense voice,

"_**Dumbledore,**_

_**You can call off the search. I am safe and in hiding. Seeking us out can only expose your people to further danger, and potentially expose my hiding place.**_

_**Not that I expect you to pay one whit of attention to what I am saying. You know best of course.**_"

"_**BOLLOCKS**_" it shouted, chunks of red paper flying everywhere.

"_**You have never paid any attention to anything but your own narcissistic delusions of competence.**_

_**I have paid for professional security advice from the best in the business. They know as much about keeping folk safe and secure as you do about…**_

…_**What the hell is it that you do know about anyway? You head the Wizengamot, but still a fifteen-year-old child faces a full court over Underage Magic Use. You're the headmaster of a school where children all but wage open warfare in the halls and serious injuries are commonplace. You lead a vigilante militia against all Dark Lords, but totally failed to do anything about it, and had to get bailed out by a one-year-old baby.**_

_**You know what? Forget it. I'm not even angry with you anymore.**_

_**All I'm asking at this point is that you respect this one request from me. Don't come after me.**_

**_I will return in time for my sixth year at Hogwarts, and you can get everyone all panicky about protecting me then. _**

**_Until then, I remain,_**

**_Harry Potter._**

**_Lord of House Potter_**"

"Harsh," Aberforth commented into his tea.

"But sadly, somewhat fair, I think." Albus appeared exhausted.

Abe raised an eyebrow, "What have you done to this boy, Albus?"

"Not enough, and too much by far."

"What do you mean to do now? Will you do as he asks? Leave him be?"

"I will make one last attempt to find him, and if I cannot, I will leave him be." Albus nodded to himself.

* * *

**Morning, a week before the kidnapping.**

Holly landed with casual ease, shaking her head at the rather...difficult landing most of the children had managed. It was something else they would need to learn.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione had crashed to the ground in a tangled heap. As had Luna, though she was somehow mostly tangled around Ron, laughing.

Neville had managed a credible landing, but was tripped up by a flailing limb. He shot Ron a filthy look as he crawled free of the melee, "You did that on purpose."

"I have," Ron heaved Ginny off of himself, "No idea." He swung his leg off of Harry, "What you're talking about. Really."

Harry rolled to his feet, helping Luna up as well, much to her seeming disappointment. "We made it? Everyone's here?"

The rest of the small group quickly gathered their wits about them and stepped over to where the Immigration Officer stood chuckling.

Holly passed a small handful of papers to the waiting official, who stamped them.

"Benvenuto in Italia. Sia prego sicuro obbedire le nostre leggi ed abbia un soggiorno piacevole." He smiled at the seven foreigners.

"Certamente signore," Hermione replied, as they all moved through immigration.

"What was that?" Ron looked confused.

"He asked us to obey the local laws and wished us a pleasant stay," Hermione responded, "He also said something about the tall red-haired one smelling off, and recommending a thorough bathing."

"What?"

The rest of the small group chuckled at his indignant squawk.

"She was joking, Ronald." Luna smiled.

"She was?"

"Of course," Luna confirmed. "The customs official was far too polite to have mentioned your smell."

Ron walked with the rest of the group for a few minutes, before suddenly stopping. "Hey!"

* * *

They travelled north for a few hours, arriving finally at a small Roman villa. 

"Looks authentic," Hermione commented.

"It should, it's been here for a couple of thousand years." Holly was looking around for something. "Ah, Miguel."

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" A tall, swarthy man wearing sunglasses was leaning against a shadowed archway. "Hmmm…chronally displaced…perhaps you are dead," the man stepped away from the wall. "What are you doing here Evans?"

"We need to see the old man."

"Franco died a decade ago. You'll want to see Signora Maria."

"What? Little Puzzo?"

"Merciful Zeus. Do not let her hear you say that. She will kill you, for sure this time." He smiled, kissing both her cheeks, and placing a casual arm around the redhead's waist as her steered her around to face her companions. "Now who are these young ones?"

Holly smiled and shook a finger at him. "No names."

"Very well, pseudonyms."

Holly nodded, and pointed to the two Weasley children, "Master and Miss Blue." Then Hermione and Neville, "Miss Red and Master Green," and finally to Harry and Luna, "Miss White and Master Grey. Kids, this is Signore Miguel."

"Welcome to Villa del Nascosta," the handsome Italian wizard made a sweeping bow. "If you have need of anything during your brief stay here, do not hesitate to ask."

Holly nodded, "Thank you Miguel, but we will see Maria as soon as possible if we may."

He shook his head, mock frowning, "She is terribly busy…sunbathing by the pool, so I am sure she can spare you a few minutes." He chuckled.

The two adults walked together into the Villa, leaving the children outside.

"Why are you 'Miss Red' and not Gin?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Because she is better read than Ginny, and red is the opposite of blue in many places," Luna answered for him.

Ron blinked a couple of times, "Did that make any sense to anyone else?"

Harry shook his head and started walking towards the villa, soon followed by Neville and Hermione.

Luna smiled at Ron and followed the others, leaving just the Weasley children.

Ginny slapped Ron up the side of the head.

Ron blinked, "What was that for?"

"If you've got to ask, then I'm not going to tell you." Turning away from him to hide her smirk, she followed after the others.

"Huh?" Ron stood there for a couple of moments, before following, muttering, "What is this? Pick on Ron day?"

Luna's voice called out from the courtyard ahead, "Yes Ron, but do catch up won't you?"

Ron hustled.

* * *

"Leave Evans. I don't do work for ghosts or Inferi." 

Harry had just entered the neatly ordered workshop, "Do you do work for Galleons?"

The dark-haired Italian witch glanced at the group of children. "You are insane, mere children will not be able to use my wands. They will be wasted on fumbling incompetents!" She paused in her assessment as her gaze lingered on Harry. . "Scopata! Tell me this isn't Il-Ragazzo-Che-Vissuto? The-Boy-Who-Lived?" She turned from swearing at Holly to address Harry, "How can you be here? Of all places?" She turned back to Holly. "Foolish wretch, the Darkness holds sway here. Your 'Hero' will be murdered and people will come after me."

"Quiet Puzzo, we are here outside of normal time. The only Dark Lord able and willing to touch us is tracking his other self. No other Dark Lord would dare touch him," she indicated Harry. "We are here for custom wands, masterworks. I had hoped to get one of Franco's…"

Maria glared at Holly. "I know this business as well as Franco ever did." She turned her attention solely to Harry, "I would never have done this for her, but for you I will. Be grateful that I do this much." Shooting an angry glare at Holly she added, "But because of her I still charge you double."

Harry shrugged, an eyebrow raised at Holly, "Fine."

* * *

A gruelling eight hours later, the seven were on their way southwest again in their rented minibus. 

"That woman was inhuman. I'd rather spend a month with Umbitch than do that again," Ron was sprawled out across the back seat.

"Seconded," Neville grunted.

Hermione sat up, "All in favour?"

A chorus of aye's sounded from the group.

Holly looked back at the group, "Umbitch?"

"Dolores Umbridge, used a Blood…"

"A Blood Quill in detentions, yes, Harry told me." Holly snarled, "She's on my list, trust me."

They travelled in silence for a few minutes.

"Where are we going?" Ginny asked.

"A small muggle villa, with its own section of beach."

"Really, a private beach?" Hermione asked in wonder.

"Yep, guy owes me. Least he can do is host me for a week." At a look from Harry she qualified that remark, "I rescued his nephew from a muggle gaol in the States and the clutches of a cellmate named Bubba."

Hermione chuckled, while the others just shrugged off her odd behaviour.

* * *

**The next day, six days before the kidnapping.**

The six were sitting around their brunch table as Holly handed out tanning potions.

"The Doc anticipated the need for these. They will allow us pasty-skinned British types to develop a healthy tan rather than a rosy glow. A few days of sun and these potions and you'll have a bronze tan." She swallowed a potion herself, "Enjoy." She then got up and walked out on the deck to sunbake in peace.

The morning was spent profitably. The girls sprawled out on the villa's sundeck. The boys spent the day swimming and playing on the beach.

Pausing for a moment, Ron called out to the other two, "Why do you think they banished us from the house with such dire threats?"

Harry shrugged, "Beats me."

Neville smiled and shook his head, "My Uncle Algy mentioned something along these lines, but I wouldn't dare speculate without absolute proof."

"What kind of proof?" Ron asked.

"Hmmm." Neville thought for a few moments, "Consider the limitations of apparel and these tanning potions. I will say nothing more. Why don't you ask your sister?"

"I am not that stupid, Nev."

"Ask Luna then," Harry smiled. "She'll tell you, without the violence your sister would insist on."

* * *

A series of loud crashes, thumps and groans echoed through the villa. 

Neville turned to Harry, "So much for the 'no-violence-from-Luna' suggestion."

The two boys casually wandered through the house to the source of the earlier noise, and found the red-head collapsed in a pile at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ron?" Harry prodded Ron's inert form with his foot, "Ron, you alive?"

"Buh!" Ron grunted.

Harry and Neville shared a look and began checking him over for broken bones.

"Buh!" Ron said again.

"Maybe a concussion?" Neville suggested.

"Well he does appear to have hit his head several times on his way down the stairs."

"Buh!"

"Think we should move him?"

"Buh!"

"Dunno, Nev. As far as I can see, it's just superficial. He'll be fine in the morning."

"Buh!"

"You take that side then. Easy Ron."

The two boys had little trouble lifting Ron to his feet, and held between them, guiding him to his bedroom.

"Buh!"

"I wonder what he's trying to say." Harry said to Neville as they manoeuvred Ron onto his bed.

Neville shrugged and splashed a glassful of water on Ron's face.

"BREASTS!" Ron suddenly shouted, sitting up in bed.

"Well I guess that answers your question, Harry."

* * *

Hermione and Ginny had been getting ready for dinner, when they heard a sudden series of crashes and thumps, followed by silence. Moments later Luna entered the large bathroom they all shared wearing only a towel. 

"What was that noise?" Hermione asked.

"Those thumps and crashes? It was probably Ron falling down the stairs."

The other two girls shared a look.

"How did he manage to do that?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I was walking here from the bedroom, when Ron asked me a question."

"What did he ask you?"

"He asked what the boys being sent away from the house had to do with getting a suntan."

"And you pushed him down the stairs for his lack of tact?" Ginny asked.

Luna just stared at her in shock for a few long moments, "Merlin no. I wouldn't do that."

"What did happen then?" Hermione elbowed Ginny.

"I showed Ron my lack of tan lines and the poor boy stumbled backwards and fell down the stairs."

"Is he all right?"

"Harry and Neville were nearby and helped him back to his room."

Ginny suddenly turned bright red, and tugged on Hermione's shoulder.

"What? Ginny? What is it?"

Ginny just pointed at the now nude Luna, who had dropped her towel to climb into the bath.

"What Ginny?"

Ginny pulled the older girl closer and whispered in her ear, "She showed him her lack of tan lines…think about it…she was only wearing a towel…"

Hermione gasped in realisation, before breaking out in laughter.

* * *

Harry was dressed in a finely tailored tuxedo, as was Neville. Ron, on the other hand, was dressed in a casual beige linen lounge suit. 

Holly arrived wearing a 'little black dress' of shimmering silk. Looking the boys up and down with approval, "Good to see. No tux, Ron?"

"Nah, I can't compete with the masters of smooth over here, so why try?"

Harry chuckled, and Neville snorted in disagreement.

"What's on the schedule, Aunt Holly?"

Holly grinned, shaking her head, "Dinner, then dancing until the early hours."

"Damn."

"Might as well get used to the long hours, once training starts you'll be getting about four hours sleep a night…if you're lucky."

The boys groans were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of their party.

"Great Merlin, we've been invaded by Veela!" Neville fell to his knees at the bottom of the stairs, arms raised as if in worship.

"And here we all thought Ron was supposed to be the clown." Ginny snarked to Hermione, secretly pleased though she was.

"Let's go kids, places to go, people to kill," she led the way to the door.

The teens following in her wake.

* * *

**A week later, the day after the kidnappings.**

"Do you think Signora Maria will cause any problems?" Harry was riding up from with Holly.

"I doubt it. Our gold is good, that's all that ever mattered to her old master."

"Perhaps, but apprentices do not always follow in the footsteps of their master." Harry muttered.

They rode in thoughtful silence until they came in sight of the Villa, where someone was waiting out in the road for them.

Holly leaned out the driver's window, "Miguel, what is the problem?"

Miguel was red in the face with indignation, a shade that reminded Harry of his Uncle."The problem? You!"

"It's not like that, Miguel. They're here willingly."

"You kidnapped Harry Potter and his friends, and fled with them through time to escape the heavy handed buffoons that call themselves Aurors!. You cannot be here now. You waited too long, time has caught up with you."

"They're not under any form of compulsion, and we still have another twelve hours before we become plotable."

The Itallian narrowed his eyes, "I want you gone from Italy before that time is up. Villa del Nascosta has remained hidden only because we are neutral. That means we aid neither side too much. You would kill us all.

"Then we need to get those wands. Come on Miguel, we need them now more than ever."

"Fine. Hurry."

* * *

Holly led them past a large number of obviously armed men and women who were loitering around the fringes of the Villa. 

"Evans. Here, take them and leave." A stack of wand boxes were thrust into her hands, "Be far from here before you bond them. I know nothing of these wands. I will be obliviated before the hour is up. I curse you for making me forget creating such beauties. You have put me at risk here. ME! Far too much risk. Never return!" The wand maker spat the last sentence.

"Nice seeing you again, too, Maria." Holly took the wands and returned to the minibus.

"Got them?" Harry asked.

"Yep, now we'd better leave before they change their minds and decide to hand us in for the bounty." The van lurched into motion, and sped down the winding road, heading Eastwards. "Wow, she hasn't changed a bit. Still the biggest drama queen I know of. She'd have to be amazing in the sack to keep her lovers around. Unless they like living dangerously."

Hermione frowned and blushed a bit, before trying to change the focus of the conversation, "Where are we going?"

"Two hours East is Florence, we'll leave the van on the outskirts at a tourist car park and portkey back to the Manor."

There were nods all round.

* * *

Author Note: 

Well, Damn. Didn't that take a long time to get out. Nearly a year. In my defence, my baby daughter has taken a hellava lot of time. As have my rpg campaigns and various online addictions. I'll try to get the next chapter out in a shorter time, though my other stories may take priority for a few weeks.

No matter how long it takes me, I am not abandoning this story...so quit with the "Oh it's abandoned" reviews already. :-)


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